


i'll kiss you for as much time as we have

by Judeyjude



Series: prince Sirius and commoner werewolf Remus [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Prince Sirius, Remus is nature's child, Remus is still a werewolf, Self-Indulgent, Sirius and Remus centric, Will add more tags as it goes on, a bit of forbidden love?, and poor, basically if you want some wolfstar fluff trash here it is, but the fluff will prevail don't u worry, later tags:, no angst really but a bit dark? i mean sirius has to some how still complete the tradition, soft sirius, with his smol bee children, wow okay this gets angtsy a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judeyjude/pseuds/Judeyjude
Summary: “I gather you have come to slay the beast?”“Uh.” Sirius stared at the man lying on the grass. There was not a line of tension in his body, and he hadn’t dignified Sirius—Prince Sirius—with a single glance. “Er, yes. Right. The beast. Werewolf. Do you, uh, know where…it dwells?”The man snorted and turned the page of his book.---prompt: According to tradition a new King/Queen/Leader must kill a werewolf to prove his worth and here I am to kill you but I just can’t seem to do it





	1. two boys

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the story that was supposed to be a one shot and is currently 20,000 words! Prompt came from happylilprompts on tumblr
> 
> Don't know my update schedule but the story is mostly finished, so at least once a week, I think.
> 
> kudos/comments much appreciated, this is super self-indulgent and I'm throwing this short teaser out here to see if anyone is interested

“I gather you have come to slay the beast?”

 

“Uh.” Sirius stared at the man lying on the grass. There was not a line of tension in his body, and he hadn’t dignified Sirius— _Prince_ Sirius—with a single glance. “Er, yes. Right. The beast. Werewolf. Do you, uh, know where…it dwells?”

 

The man snorted and turned the page. 

 

Sirius shifted on his feet, he had never been more humbled in his life. He imagined James’ uproarious laughter if he could have seen Sirius right now, speechless. He continued standing, waiting for a response, feeling incredibly stupid wearing armor in the most non-threatening meadow to ever exist. 

 

Eventually, the man heaved a sigh. Still not looking up, he said, “The beast you are after is closer than you’d believe. If you must, a riddle you shall receive. First, the gender in which you assigned. Second, the person closest to everyone from the moment they are birthed. Third, what do you call a man? Fourth, how do you measure a person’s intelligence?”

 

Sirius opened and closed his mouth twice.

 

“I will not repeat myself. Now leave me be, Arnold called Jacob pretty and it is quite the momentous occasion.”

 

Sirius would have sat on the ground if his armor didn’t make it so difficult. His mind was spinning in so many directions. _Arnold and Jacob? Aren’t those…boy names? Is he reading a book about…two boys…_ Sirius flushed.

 

He stood for another thirty seconds, blurted out “good day!” and then ran—sprinted far, far away.


	2. pale eyes and a not-name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Remus lies and says his name is John; it will only last a short time but keep in mind that it's definitely Remus

“You’re back.” The man sounded surprised and Sirius didn’t know whether to be offended or proud.

 

A day less than a month had passed since their first meeting, the full moon is tomorrow and Sirius figured he’d start his hunt a day earlier this time. The sun was low in the sky, soft shades of orange and dark blue fading, and Sirius wondered how early did the man come out here to read. Did he sleep here? Did he have a home? Who was this man?

 

He hadn’t realized the silence that stretched between the two of them until the man prompted, “You haven’t figured out the riddle, yet, have you?”

 

“I have!” Sirius tapped his pinky to his thumb twice to counter his lie, a tick he’d kept up as a child.

 

He suppressed a screech when one of those striped bastards— _bees—_ appeared, appearing to fly straight for him. This was it, Sirius thought, he was going to die by a bee, he was going to be stung and the poison would kill him immediately. Bees were filled with poison, right? Sirius thought he read about the insects in one of his lessons. The bee flew in lazy circles before landing on the corner of the man’s book. 

 

The man simply smiled at it.

 

“Well,” the man spoke and Sirius thought for a moment he was speaking to the insect. “If you have already reached the conclusion, it would not hurt to be told once more, no?”

 

Sirius agreed before the sentence left the man’s mouth. Truthfully, he didn’t remember a single word of the riddle after he fled the month prior, like one of the palace dogs with its tail between its legs. The man repeated the four parts back to Sirius slowly, enunciating each word carefully without belittling Sirius. The man became more and more fascinating—enigmatic—with every brush of the wind. Sirius had never met someone who could be so clearly amused and poking fun with no reservation, while still being kind and considerate. What bothered Sirius, though, was the man refused to look at him, still. Were his books that much more fascinating than Sirius?

 

“May I return to Ridley and the mountain lion now?”

 

“Er.” Sirius blinked. “Mountain lion?”

 

“Oh, they are a bit like a big cat.” The man hummed, thinking. “They look similar to a small lioness.”

 

Sirius imagined Lily’s hairless cat enlarged and scrunched his nose, _no thank you_. Lions, he’d heard of, but he did not know their shape nor color.

 

“If you are that put off with a big cat,” the man mused, “I do wonder how you will face a werewolf.”

 

Werewolf. Right. Sirius was here on his royal hunt. “No need to worry yourself about my amazing warrior skills. That I absolutely have.”

 

For effect, Sirius rested his hands on his hips, bringing attention to his sheathed sword, making the movement grand enough the man would see it in his periphery vision. 

 

The man’s lips twitched and Sirius felt an unknown urge to preen. “I don’t plan on worrying in the slightest.”

 

Sirius nodded, hesitated, and without another word, retreated in his clanking suit of armor. He didn’t understand the disappointment swirling in his heart.

-

Sirius came back the next day, dressed in regular clothes, commoner clothes he had stolen from James. Finally abandoning his ridiculous armor. A piece of parchment, inscribed with the riddle from memory, was tucked into the waist of his trousers.

 

He had thought all night and wasn’t much closer to the answer, so he decided he’d spend the day in the meadow, no point in even trying to hunt. He could work the riddle here, maybe get a few tips or hints from the man. Maybe they could also make small conversation, get to know each other. For research purposes, of course. Sirius was a prince, he should know all of his people. This thin man in clothing that provided no places to hide weapons, barefoot, reading a book, who smiled at bees—he could be a threat. 

 

Sirius approached the man, who, as always, was lying on his back, with neither shoes nor socks. One arm reached behind his head, his hand holding his neck to prop it up in an upright position, while the other hand held the book inches from his face. Sirius didn’t think it looked comfortable but the man looked completely at ease, as if this was his element, almost as if he was an extension of the meadow, an extension of nature. Sirius almost expected his body to sway with the occasional breeze, as the flowers and long grass did.

 

Sirius wanted nothing more than for the man to finally look at him and he wrote it off as wanting his status as royalty to be acknowledged—except that was nothing he had ever cared about. Something he despised, actually. The man continued to ignore or be oblivious to Sirius’ presence, so Sirius sat down for the first time, a good distance away on the surprisingly soft ground. He pretended to ignore the man as well and took out his parchment. The first question: _the gender in which you assigned…_

 

What did that mean? Who? Did the man mean himself? Sirius gendered him as a man, a male. That seemed far too easy, Sirius was too intelligent to be fooled. Yet, who else could the man be referencing? Sirius? He identified as male as well. 

 

Sirius thought for so long, his mind stumbling in circles, that the sun climbed the sky and he became uncomfortable from sitting. He switched to lying on his back, closed his eyes, and found it easier to focus without the temptation of looking at the man. Without being able to see the faint smudge of dirt on his round cheeks, the damp sweaty blond hair at the nape of his neck, the slope of his large nose…

 

Sirius banished those thoughts with a deep exhale. Riddle. Focus. He could do this. 

 

After some time, he heard a quiet gasp. His eyes shot open, muscles instinctively tensing, but no threat loomed. No person coming for Sirius’ blood and no werewolf. 

 

He turned his head to the man. “What is it?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You gasped.”

 

“I did? I apologize.” The man paused and bit his lower lip. He added, “Ridley’s in danger.”

 

Sirius waited for him to explain. He didn’t. “By the mountain lion?”

 

“No,” the man sounded mildly offended. “They’re quite gentle, really.”

 

Sirius had a hard time believing that. “You speak as if you’ve met one.”

 

“Because I have.”

 

Sirius sat up. “Really?”

 

The man’s mouth twitched. “Yes. Not here.”

 

“You’ve been out of the kingdom? Are you a traveler? Where have you been? Where are you from?”

 

The man set the book down on his chest and for a moment Sirius thought he’d turn to face him. His heart sped up—this was it. The man merely rested his head back on the grass, removing his supporting arm, and closed his eyes. 

 

His answers were clipped but not unkind. “Yes. I suppose I am a bit. Around.”

 

_Around?_ That was all he had to say? Sirius burned with questions—he’d never been allowed to leave the kingdom, his parents hardly allowed anyone to. He waited and waited and hoped for the man to continue. Sirius stamped down his energy, knowing he never knew how to dial it back once he released it. He didn’t think the man would appreciate an interrogation. Sirius could be patient if he chose to.

 

The man kept his eyes closed and didn’t go back to his book. Taking that as a good sign, Sirius desperately threw ideas around his mind, trying to come up with something to say.

 

“What shall I call you,” he settled on.

 

“Hm. What do you call me now?”

 

“Nothing. I mean—in my head,” Sirius felt stupid, “I refer to you as the man.”

 

“The man,” the man said, rolling the word in his mouth. “Hm. Fitting.”

 

Sirius wondered if he could get away with moving closer. He wanted to see the man’s facial features up close. He decided against it. “Well? Your name?”

 

“Call me the man.”

 

Sirius scowled. “I want to know your real name.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t know.” Sirius tapped his pinky to his thumb twice.

 

The man seemed to think. “I suppose you can call me John.”

 

Sirius wrinkled his nose. That name was far too common for a man like this. “That’s not your real name.”

 

The man chuckled lowly and Sirius mentally thanked _John_ for keeping his eyes closed, preventing him from witnessing Sirius’ shiver. 

 

“It’s not,” John confirmed.

 

“Why won’t you tell me?”

 

“You are too smart.” The man stood up, grabbing his book off his chest beforehand, fast enough to make Sirius dizzy. “I must be going now.” His voice was teasing as he said, “Good day.”

 

Watching the man retreat into the forest, Sirius tried to calm his galloping heart. He knew he should have been wondering what that meant—why was John so cryptic? what would revealing his name do?—but he couldn’t help but think of the compliment. The man, John, thought he was smart! 

 

Sirius got up and ran the whole way back to town, jumped on his horse, bursting with the need to update Lily and James. He vowed to figure out the riddle before he returned next month. He wanted to prove he was as smart as John thought him to be.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next month, Sirius couldn’t go due to Princely duties. His mother looked at him, said no firmly, and that was that. He kept repeating in his head _one more year, one more year of being on her tight leash, you can do this._ It was hard to hold onto the mantra when they were empty words. If he defeated a werewolf, in a year he would be king.

 

But the former king and queen hold the power to override the new leader’s decisions for the first two years of ruling, under the pretense of “helping” with adjustment. Sirius had spent twenty-one years whipped into perfect form by his mother and he would not sacrifice that time by disobeying her orders and being subsequently banished and disinherited. 

 

He locked himself in his room that night, turning away even James when he crept up from the servants quarters.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius ran, nearly jumping in the air. He’d waited day by day, barely suppressing the want to visit the meadow. He worried it would be too forward to visit with a purpose that wasn’t the hunt. He didn’t want to scare John away.

 

As he neared, he saw John was standing and there was someone with him. Hot jealousy shot through him, pooling in his stomach, crashing in turbulent waves. He felt childish, it wasn’t that John was Sirius’ possession, but this was _their_ time. Sirius may have only been here three times before but he considered that enough to establish a routine, even if he missed last month. How dare someone else intrude—who were they? A friend?

 

Shame poured on top of the jealousy, a part of Sirius didn't want John to have friends. He deserved nice things, this Sirius knew—he didn’t want to admit he feared the competition. John must only tolerate the best of the best people. Was this stranger better than Sirius? 

 

The stranger turned out to be an older man, short and blueberry-shaped, and his body was coiled up, prepared to strike. Sirius couldn’t hear what this new man was saying but it was clear he was shouting. Sirius sped up his pace.

 

“Enough with this smart talk, boy! Tell me where the beast is!”

 

John clenched his fists and whispered something Sirius couldn’t hear.

 

“Hey!” Sirius called out, his Prince voice, the signature Black harsh and cold tone, slipping through. “Leave him alone!”

 

The stranger spun on his heel to face Sirius. It was comical how fast his face slipped from an ugly tomato red to a marble white. He stumbled over his feet to perform a clumsy bow. 

 

“The kingdom knows of my hunt,” Sirius snapped. “You must be ignorant or a fool to be coming here. I presume you wanted a chance to kill a werewolf yourself? Bring yourself honor and some gold? At the cost of your soon-to-be _King_?”

 

The stranger spluttered, insisting _no, no your Highness!_ Sirius refused to say anything more to this scum who dared to threaten John and stared him down with as much disdain as he could muster, channeling his mother’s spirit. The fool scampered out of the meadow and within seconds John faced Sirius with clenched fists.

 

He looked Sirius right in the eye for the first time. 

 

It was nothing like all those nights Sirius had dreamed of. John didn’t look happy, impressed, or amazed. He looked borderline murderous, almost baring his teeth. Despite this, Sirius remained unfazed by his anger, distracted instead by John’s brilliant green eyes, pale and lovely. A light tan stretched from cheek to cheek, crossing his nose, undoubtedly from all his time in the sun. A few dark freckles were even littered here and there. A lock of blond hair was plastered in the middle of his forehead in a slight curl. 

 

Sirius gazed at John in wonder but the magic of the moment was ruined by the way John looked at him as if deserved the same fate as the rude stranger.

 

“I do not need you to defend me. I can take care of myself.” John’s voice was lower than usual, like when he chuckled. 

 

A thrill ran through Sirius. 

 

“He was being an asshole.” Sirius crossed his arms. “I wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that.”

 

“You should have!” John grounded his left heel into the grass, in an almost child-like stomp. “I am not a poor commoner that needs saving.”

 

“I was helping!”

 

“I don’t need your _help._ ” John threw a dirty glare, angrily picked his book off the ground, and stepped back.

 

“Wait, wait!” Sirius quickly stepped forward, touching John’s wrist in his haste to stop the man from leaving. “Please, I am sorry. Stay, please. Please stay.”

 

A flash of confusion clouded John’s expression before it slid into blankness. 

 

“I want to be alone,” he said, quietly.

 

“You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

 

John didn’t say anything, his eyes staring somewhere else, once again not on Sirius. He stalked off into the forest. 

-

Sirius’ nerves needn’t have plagued him so much through the night, for the next day, John was there, exactly where he should be. Except for this time, he stood up when Sirius approached.

 

“I didn’t mean to become so angry with you,” John said, running a hand through his hair in a way that reminded and didn’t remind Sirius of James. Sirius was struck by their height difference, he had been too stunned yesterday to notice. John barely reached Sirius’ chin.

 

Sirius remembered he was supposed to respond. “I’m sorry I offended you.”

 

“You don’t seem too sorry.”

 

Sirius couldn’t help it, his face was splitting in a wide grin. “I can’t help but be happy you returned.”

 

John scuffed his big toe in the dirt and glanced up at Sirius through his dark lashes, smiling shyly. “Yeah?”

 

“Yes,” Sirius said earnestly.

 

John’s smile turned into a small grin and Sirius felt the need to fan himself. He glanced around, giving himself a moment to gather himself before he blurted out something stupid. He realized the meadow was incomplete.

 

“No book?”

 

“I thought.” John ran a hand through his hair again. “We could sit together today?”

 

And so they sat together and Sirius couldn’t remember feeling so happy and light in his life. They weren’t even saying much, sometimes John spent minutes lying down, staring up at the clouds. Sirius felt a little overwhelmed by John’s social change, it seemed to be founded in his guilt for snapping at Sirius but Sirius has no complaints. John hardly gave away information on himself, deflecting questions with inquiries of his own. Sirius didn’t mind, especially because John never asked him about being royal. He treated him like he was normal, asking about James and what subjects he enjoyed and his pastimes, favorite foods and colors.

 

The day was passing by far too fast for Sirius’ liking, dusk approaching. Cursing himself for coming only one day before the moon again, he vowed next time to come a few nights early.

 

“I like how warm it is here.” John’s eyes fluttered shut. “The season-less weather is nice. I don’t have to worry about the winter.”

 

Sirius didn’t like the sound of John going through a winter alone, shivering and cold. His attire was old and rundown, he obviously didn’t have much. “Have you been to places with harsh winters before?” 

 

John made a noncommittal sound. “How’s the riddle coming along?”

 

“I believe the second one is me. Well, not _me,_ me, I mean the word me. As in, from birth, you are always with yourself.” John made no indication if Sirius was right or wrong. “The next one is wit, I believe. The first and last one have me stuck, however.”

 

John’s face hardly changed but Sirius sensed him retreating inside himself. 

 

“I suppose you won’t help me?” He joked, trying to keep the air light.

 

John worried his lip, dragging his teeth over the pink skin, and Sirius followed the movement with his eyes. John opened his eyes and turned his head, pale eyes sparkling.

 

“No.”

 

“You seem far too happy about that.”

 

John laughed. “I have to go.”

 

“No,” Sirius said, fast. “Stay.”

 

John looked away. “I have to.”

 

“Will you at least tell me your name?”

 

John stood up, dusted the dirt off his clothes, and walked away, disappearing into the trees.

 


	3. sleepy, slurry words

“James,” Sirius whispered. “James, James, _James.”_ Sirius sucked his finger and stuck it in James’ ear, twisting it.

 

“WHAT TH—” Sirius clamped a hand down to muffle James’ yelp, removing the finger from the ear to raise to his lips in the universal _shh_ sign. And then he wiped the finger on James’ shirt because gross—spit and earwax.

 

James glowered at Sirius but the effect was lost on his half-lidded eyes and the sheet wrinkles crossing his face from sleep. He enacted revenge by slobbering over Sirius’ hand.

 

“Gross!”

 

“You just stuck your—”

 

A grunt and the creak of a bed startled the two boys. They turned wide-eyed to one of the six other beds cramped in the servant’s quarters. The grunt was unmistakably Peter’s—their old childhood friend who snitches to Sirius’ mother in exchange for food, thus forever earning the codename of _rat_ in addition to a bed covered in worms for three weeks.

 

“What are you doing?” James hissed after Peter let out a snore. “If he sees us, your mother will be out for blood.”

 

Sirius beckoned James to the stairs in show of how serious the matter at hand was. Sirius never took the servant’s staircases, not even for pranks, because they were exceedingly narrow and claustrophobia-inducing. They opened the door a tiny crack, sucking in their stomachs, Sirius more so than James, to slip through, for minimized creaking.

 

Sitting down on the steps, James yawned. “What’s the matter?”

 

Sirius bit his tongue, trying to figure out the right wording.

 

James side-eyed Sirius. “Okay, either something terrible has happened and a shit law is getting passed or there’s a spider in your room.”

 

“This isn’t funny,” Sirius snapped half-heartedly. He waited a beat before adding, “It’s about my hunt.”

 

“You figured out the riddle?”

 

Sirius waved a lazy hand, shaking his head. “No. I need advice on talking to John.”

 

“You woke me up for _that_?”

 

Sirius glared. “This is serious! You’re the only person I talk to other than stuffy old councilmen. You get to talk to Lily and Mary and other people our age. You know how to…”

 

“Socialize?” James deadpanned.

 

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded, “that. We’ve done small talk but it’s time for the next level, medium talk.”

 

“I can’t decide if I’m dreaming or you’re really this stupid.” Sirius pinched the skin on James’ exposed forearm. “Fuck, I was kidding! Why do you need to talk, anyway? You said he won’t give any hints.”

 

Sirius avoided James’ probing gaze. “Maybe he will if we talk. Medium talks are known for unlocking lips.”

 

“I don’t think that phrase means what you think it means,” James muttered. In a louder voice he said, “Just say words, ask him how he is. It’s not that complex.”

 

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d met him,” Sirius huffed, shoulders slumping in his petulance. “I never know if he wants me there or not. Every time I feel like we’re getting somewhere, he withdraws. A lot of the time he doesn’t even look at me.”

 

James sat quietly, either thinking or falling back asleep. “Well, he’s always alone isn’t he?” Sirius nodded, grateful James was awake and realizing the gravity of the matter. “He probably doesn’t make a lot of friends if he travels and he lives on the outskirts of the kingdom. You’re probably the only contact he has.”

 

Sirius thought back to John’s surprise when he returned the month after the first meeting. James’ theory was plausible, perhaps Lily’s intelligence was finally rubbing off on him.

 

James shrugged. “Maybe he’s lonely but doesn’t know how not to be lonely.”

 

“Eloquent.”

 

James slugged Sirius in the shoulder. “Fuck you, that was top tier advice. I’m off Sirius Support Duty for the next month.”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes, sincerely saying, “Thanks, James.”

 

“Now go before Wormtail—”

 

“I told you,” Sirius interrupted, “if we’re using a better codename it’s Petti-poop.”

 

“And I told you that’s _lame_.”

 

“Well then stick to rat!”

 

“ _Fine._ Go before the _rat_ wakes up.”

 

“Or,” a wicked grin crossed Sirius’ face. “We can hide all his underpants and then I go.”

—

John did a double-take from where he was lying on the ground, and not the good _I’m-so-happy-to-see-you_ kind. A string of curses ran through Sirius’ head—of course, he’d fuck everything up within seconds. What did he do? Is coming three days before the full moon too desperate? It was simply a product of his dedication to the hunt, he was being prepared, obviously.

 

While Sirius’ mind whirred on how to fix this—damn, he should have asked James how to fix things if you don’t know what you needed to fix, a problem he had often with Lily—John turned back to his book with a crease between his eyebrows. His hands clenched the sides of the book, knuckles white, and his legs drew up, bent at the knees, a position for escape rather than comfort.

 

“How are you,” Sirius blurted.

 

John’s frown deepened.

 

“Uh,” Sirius said, mentally shouting at himself to shut up but his mouth had other plans, “I’m well and, er.” Sirius waved a hand in a pathetic attempt to fan himself, cringing. “Wow, it sure is hot.”

 

“You do not have to converse with me, you know. I am well acquainted with these situations.”

 

Sirius’ relief at John cutting off his embarrassing babbling was short lived. John’s speech was receding fast to distantly formal. Great. Things kept getting better. 

 

“Acquainted?”

 

“You are in your armor again,” John gestured to Sirius’ form, “and have arrived three days before the full moon.”

 

And now John’s voice was dry. Even better.

 

Why was the Palace’s library full of books on proper social adequate at boring dinner parties? There should have been information on socializing with barefoot strangers who read books in meadows—surely other Princes and Princesses had this same problem.

 

Sirius didn’t know what to say other than “I am”, followed by “and?” when John stayed silent.

 

“Why are you making me spell it out for you,” bitterness crept into John’s neutrality. “You are on your ‘hunt’, you are in armor again to resume it with more determination by coming out earlier, and you are acting strangely because you do not want to hurt my feelings.” His fingers flexed around the book. “Don’t bother.”

 

“That’s why you’re upset?” John tensed at Sirius’, admittedly untactful, incredulity. “Wait, no, I’m not making fun of you! This is,” Sirius took off his helmet to rub a hand over his face. “I need to come in armor because people see me leave the castle and if I’m not wearing it people will be suspicious.”

 

Sirius sighed when his explanation didn’t clear up the confusion. He began pulling his armor off piece by piece, wishing he had saved his helmet for last to hide his embarrassed face. Removing armor was neither fun nor easy, it involved a lot of clunking, amplified in the quiet meadow, and hopping and the occasional falling on one’s ass. By the time Sirius was free from the metal hell, he was on the ground and James’ commoner clothes were stained by grass and mud. He tried to wear the now-dirty attire with confidence—the sun had beaten down harshly and the armor had made him a pool of sweat and he refused to acknowledge the resulting armpit stains. 

 

“Oh.” John sat up slowly, his book pressed between his bent legs and stomach. “Then you’re here,” his eyebrows scrunched together in bemusement, “to solve the riddle in an unstimulated environment?”

 

Unstimulated? For the hundredth time, Sirius asked himself who was this man and why did every unusual thing he say make Sirius want to come closer instead of farther away? Sirius needed a _long_ piece of parchment to write down all these unsolvable inquires.

 

“Yes? No, I mean. The opposite? I hate the castle—I mean, sometimes it’s overwhelming. Too much quiet—bad quiet?” Sirius took a deep breath. “I like it here. It’s nice.”

 

“Okay,” John said. He looked confused but at least he wasn’t upset anymore. “I’ll leave you to the riddle then. I won’t bother you.”

 

Sirius bit his tongue to prevent the words _do bother me, please_ from tumbling out. With an internal groan, he let himself fall from his upright sitting position down onto his back with a thump. He could feel John’s gaze but he refused to look back, needing to gather his crushed dignity and mold it back together. 

 

Not long after, he heard the rustling of John moving and made the mistake of not looking over, assuming John was getting comfortable. By the time Sirius gained the courage to turn his head, John was a third of the way to the forest. Sirius opened his mouth to call out and left it open, not knowing what to say. He waited until John was out of sight to release the swears he’d been hoarding. 

 

Sirius was reaching new heights of failure—he’d made John so uncomfortable that he left his beloved meadow. If anyone should have left, it should have been Sirius. It wasn’t even midday and he ruined both of their days. 

 

He blamed James entirely. 

—

Sirius crossed the meadow briskly, wearing no armor, the next morning and with a purpose. He was a goddamn _Prince_ , in a year he’d be King. He had spent three goddamn hours debating against his asshole cousin about military spending and he had given up his stance because his mother glared at him and he’d done it with a _smile._ If Sirius could go through that horror, he damn well could establish an amicable acquaintance with John.

 

“Do you live alone?” He demanded once in hearing distance.

 

“That’s none of your business.” John startled, responding rather snappish. He stood on his feet and balled his fists. “Living alone doesn’t mean I’m an easy target.”

 

Sirius came to halt. “What are you talking about?”

 

“What are _you_ talking about?”

 

Sirius shook his head, focused, and repeated the words he’d practiced last night. “I live in a castle full of people. I only speak with older people who lecture and correct everything I do. My brother hasn’t spoken to me for two years and James and I aren’t supposed to see each other.”

 

“…Okay.”

 

Sirius aggressively tucked a strand of black hair behind his ear. “You live alone and I live surrounded by people,” he surged on, “but we both have no one to talk to.”

 

“Wait,” John said after several moments. “Has this been you trying to say…you’re lonely and want company?”

 

“No.” Sirius crossed his arms. He uncrossed them and amended, “Yes.” He bit and released his lip. “I think I might have come across as confrontational?”

 

John’s face quivered, his mouth twitching up and down before he gave into laughing. Uncharacteristically, warmth pooled in Sirius’ stomach rather than embarrassed anger. 

 

Wiping his eyes, John said, “A little bit, yes. I think we’re even, though. I may have been overly defensive.”

 

Sirius chuckled. “Can we start over?”

 

Schooling his face effortlessly, like a ripple of a wave, to a blank slate, John nodded. Sirius took a deep breath. “Hi, I’m back again and if you don’t mind I would like to think over the riddle in this lovely meadow with your company.”

 

“I do not mind but you can’t charm me into handing over the answers.” John rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath. “And, if you don’t mind, I also don’t mind company…and talking.”

 

“We’re terribly awful at this whole ‘socializing’ thing, aren’t we?”

 

John smiled toothily, revealing an overbite. “At least we’re bad together.”

 

Not trusting himself with an appropriate response, Sirius sat down on the ground and John followed suit. Sirius explained his newfound euphoria to having discovered the reasoning to why John made his chest flip frantically. It turned out Sirius was _lonely_ and his nervousness derived from not knowing how to befriend people. It made perfect sense, even explaining why Sirius became so joyful when John smiled. He simply enjoyed overcoming the hurdle of awkwardness. He’d feel this way with any commoner.

 

“And,” Sirius piped up, inspired by his budding good mood, “don’t worry about embarrassing yourself. I’m quite sure I’ll always be the successor in that category.”

 

John’s response was quick. “I have no doubts about that.”

 

Making an undignified, offended sound, Sirius ripped a clump of grass up, tossing it at John, who expertly dodged and barked with laughter.

—

Sirius was awoken rudely the next morning to someone knocking on the door of the room Sirius rented from the town Inn. Not exactly rented—each time Sirius visited this side of the kingdom for his hunt, the old woman shrieked and provided him the same room, the largest they had, for free, no matter how many times Sirius tried to exude his kind nature and want to pay her like any other customer.

 

“What?” Sirius croaked out, snuggling deeper into his blankets. For a brief, delirious moment he hoped John’s voice would respond. 

 

“Your Highness, your cousins have arrived a few days early.” The Palace messenger’s voice was muffled through the thick wooden door but Sirius heard him loud and clear.

 

A variety of wants crossed his mind—to scream, cry, snarl, yell obscenities, preferably charge the castle and stab his cousins. _A few days early_ , Sirius scoffed. More like a week. They undoubtedly did this on purpose, knowing Sirius would have to return immediately and cut his allotted monthly time to hunt. 

 

There was a meek knock. “Sir?”

 

“Tell my mother I need a few hours before I leave.”

 

“Sir,” the messenger sounded uneasy, “the Queen requested I bring you with me.”

 

Sirius groaned, long and loud. He dressed in a hurry, opening his door to tell the young boy he “left” some equipment in the forest and needed to collect it before he can return. They spent ten minutes of light arguing, Sirius finally winning in the end, succeeding in convincing the boy to stay in town and let Sirius ride alone to the meadow.

 

“Enjoy yourself,” Sirius said, clapping the messenger’s shoulder. “Look around town until I return.” 

—

John stood ready for Sirius, the arrival on horse not being quite subtle. Sirius neglected to bring his stallion to the meadow every visit, preferring to go on foot the first time and after not wanting to chance John being made uncomfortable. Maybe he hated horses—who knew? It was a Prince’s duty to make his subjects be at ease, after all.

 

Sirius’ usually steady horse, Grimmauld, reared slightly at the sight of the slender blond man and continued to eye him warily while Sirius crooned to him softly. John won Grimm over in minutes, the frightened exchange slipping away as John ran a hand down Grimm’s black neck. A hot flash of something ran down Sirius spine, akin to jealousy, which was ludicrous. Sirius had no reason to be jealous of a horse. 

 

“I can’t stay,” Sirius said, cutting right to the chase. “I know we have two days left but I’m needed.”

 

Sirius swallowed at John’s gaze. Their height difference on foot meant John had to look up at Sirius always but being on horse amplified the effect, John looking up through his dark eyelashes, the sun hitting his green eyes perfectly.

 

“Did you leave something here?”

 

“No, I came to explain. I didn’t want you to think I’m avoiding you or,” Sirius trailed off and shrugged.

 

A bee landed near John’s feet, settling on a yellow flower, and John stepped his foot back to allow it more room. “You didn’t have to do that,” he insisted, his eyes trained on the bee. “I know it’s a long travel here from the village.”

 

“I wanted to.” Sirius coughed and lightened the air by teasing, “Besides, today was your turn to be embarrassing and I wanted to make sure you know that carries over to next month.”

 

John flashed his overbite. “Come a day before the full.”

 

“Why?”

 

John didn’t answer, giving Grimm a last pat instead. “Go, there are greater things than a lazy day in the meadow.”

 

Sirius hesitated.

 

John laughed, “Go on.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius thought he’d lose his hearing before the month would pass. His mind was full of fish that couldn’t be caught, as his old tutor would say. His attention strayed throughout the weeks, he was never good with surprises and mysteries, itching to learn what John had in store for him. Of course, this didn’t pass by his mother’s attention, leading to screaming, then screeching, and finally, punishment.

 

His cousins’ stay was no worse than usual, Sirius had been snuffed out of his duties more than once, his parents coming up with excuses for his relatives to sit in on meetings for him. Their moral compasses wavered, unlike Sirius’.

 

At last, the night came where in the morning he could make the three-hour journey to the village and then the hour to the meadow. He woke up every hour, each time eagerly looking out the window to see if it was time to get ready.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

John looked up and grinned at Sirius, stealing the Prince’s breath unknowingly. John’s overbite and slightly pointed canines gleamed in the sunlight and Sirius wanted to pounce on him and hug him forever. He settled for sitting closer to him than usual, their knees a breath away from brushing. Sirius had been smarter this time and chucked his armor off at the Inn before coming.

 

“It’s winter solstice. I thought we could celebrate.”

 

_We._ Sirius fought the heat rising to his cheeks and watched John weave flowers together. 

 

“What’s a solstice?” He asked, staring at the small scars and callouses on John’s nimble fingers.

 

“It’s a tradition. A celebration for midwinter. It’s the shortest day of the year, you know, but the longest night.” He glanced up, his hands still moving, locking eyes with Sirius for a moment. “I came across people celebrating it in a place I lived for a bit. I don’t know much of it but I find it fun to make up traditions. There’s a summer solstice, too.”

 

It was the most John had ever offered up about himself and he’d done it voluntarily. Sirius high-fived his past self for embarrassing himself so thoroughly last month that John felt comfortable to be personal.

 

“Finished.” John carefully lifted the flowers woven into a circle. 

 

“It’s beautiful.”

 

John rolled his eyes. “It’s for you, you idiot.”

 

Sirius didn’t know what to say. John made _him_ something. Sirius didn’t know what it was but he loved it and it was amazing and he would cherish it forever and he would preserve it so he could be buried with it when he dies.

 

John rolled his eyes again. “Here.” He lifted the flowers up and Sirius’ heart stilled asJohn leaned forward, their faces inches apart, and placed it upon Sirius’ head. His hands retreated quickly and Sirius barely stopped himself from grabbing them back. 

 

“It’s a flower crown.” John folded his hands in his lap, shy.

 

“I love it,” Sirius assured, not wanting John to shut away his easy attitude. “Thank you. I love it.”

 

John shrugged but Sirius could tell he was pleased.

 

“Can you show me how to make one?”

 

They spent the afternoon playing with flowers. John laughed at Sirius as he continued to break stems and have his crowns fall apart. It was magical, his laughter sometimes low and deep and other times twinkling, like how Sirius imagined fairies would laugh from children’s storybooks. Sirius’ favorite part of the day was when John confessed, softly, that he liked having someone to celebrate with.

 

Eventually, John stopped them, saying he felt guilty for picking too many flowers. Sirius offered his last crown attempt, half-done and looking like a tiara. John accepted the wilted flowers gracefully.

 

Night drew near but John stayed during and after the sunset, unlike the last times. 

 

“You’re tired.”

 

“Am not,” John said, yawning for the fifth time. His eyes scrunched closed and his mouth fell open to reveal a curled pink tongue.

 

“You need your sleep,” Sirius scolded, leaving no room for argument. He stood up.

 

John didn’t get up immediately. Sirius didn’t know if he should hope John’s reluctance was over wanting to be in Sirius’ company longer. More likely, he was too exhausted to move.

 

“May I walk you home?”

 

John snorted, pushing up onto his feet. “I’m not going to be attacked by a werewolf.”

 

Sirius hid his disappointment, no longer wasting energy questioning the suspicious feelings he felt in John’s presence.

—

The next day, John didn’t come out until later, nearing the afternoon. Sirius had been convinced he wasn’t going to show up at all. 

 

John didn’t greet him as he stumbled out of the trees and over to their spot, no words spoken as he lied down next to Sirius in a curl, falling asleep within minutes.

 

He woke up in fits, each time flinching and sitting up with raised fists. It hurt every time, knowing that John didn’t trust Sirius enough to fall asleep in his presence. It made sense—Sirius had no real worry being around one isolated person, someone people would see as having no meaning. Sirius, on the other hand, was a Prince to John, someone who could have ulterior motives. John wore kindness like a second skin and Sirius stunk of his family’s legacy of cruelty and apathy.

 

“John,” he said firmly, a touch brittle, several clenched fists later. “I’m not going to hurt you. Let yourself sleep, okay?”

 

John stared at Sirius, his eyelids drooping. In his barely conscious state, he looked much more vulnerable, his face more expressive and less guarded. He nodded and settled back onto the ground. This time, John transformed in his sleep, melting into the grass, reminding Sirius of Lily’s cat sleeping in a sunny patch. As time passed, he inched closer and closer to Sirius, seeking warmth in his sleep.

 

Sirius should have been bored, he’d never been one to sit still for extended periods of time, and he should have been disappointed that today, the day of the full moon, their last day, was wasted with John sleeping through it. Yet, sitting here, in the last few hours of daylight, Sirius felt himself melt into the moment as well, relishing in it as much as he had during yesterday’s activities. 

 

The next time John woke, he merely opened his eyes, not moving into a defensive stance, and blinked owlishly before mumbling Sirius’ name. 

 

“I’m here,” Sirius said.

 

He was more than a bit relieved when John fell back to sleep in seconds. Sirius’ mind flailed wildly. John had said his name. He said his name! It was a bit slurred, mumbled sleepily and Sirius wondered if that was what it would be like to wake up in bed with John in the morning. Sleepy, slurry words and adorably dazed blinking.

 

Sirius looked at John with wide eyes, almost frightened that John could have heard Sirius’ thoughts. 

 

Sirius had imagined sleeping in the same bed as John. 

 

Oh, gods. He was in serious trouble. He threw an arm over his head, hiding his eyes in the crook of his elbow. Oh, gods. _Fuck_. 

 

Sirius woke John gently when the sun was setting and the air dropped to a chill. He tucked away his worry over John’s state, promising himself to see Lily first thing when he returned to the castle, to ask how normal sleeping all day was. He knew it was useless to voice his fretting to John, knowing him enough by now that he’d wave it off.

 

“May I please walk you home tonight?” Sirius begged.

 

John smiled, lazy and sleepy. “No werewolves will get me tonight. I’ll be fine.”


	4. one of nature and one of royalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **check end notes if you want the riddle explained in detail
> 
> \- if anyone gets confused about how many months have passed, just ask and I can start putting it at the end of chapters. Walburga will reference how long it has been since his hunt started in the next chap
> 
> \- hope people are still enjoying the story! : )

Sirius couldn’t visit the next month, again, but this time because he chose to.

 

“Your prince charming has arrived!”

 

Sirius looked up at James before flipping on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest.

 

“Woah, okay.” Sirius felt a dip in the bed. “What happened?”

 

Sirius harrumphed. 

 

“Is this about your boy again?”

 

“What—he—you—he’s not my boy!”

 

“Oooh,” James taunted, “I bet you’re blushing.”

 

Sirius shoved his face into the pillow before James could check. He listened to the rustling of silk and the bang of the headboard as James got comfortable in the bed, moving close enough that Sirius could feel his body heat. 

 

Sirius rolled over and looked up at James’ amused brown eyes. There was mud smeared across one cheek and he was wearing the palace’s servant uniform, black with green and silver trim. 

 

“The _‘Dark Lord’,_ ” Sirius said darkly, “is coming to visit during the full moon.”

 

James raised his eyebrows. “The Dark Lord?”

 

“That Marvolo fellow, you know, from a few kingdoms away. Apparently, he’s having his people address him as such. I heard Reg say it.”

 

James threw his head back and laughed. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! _Dark Lord_.” He snorted. “Fitting because he sucks all the light out of rooms when he walks in. Even his kingdom is an eternal winter.”

 

A pang ran through Sirius’ heart. He wondered if John had ever been there, if that was the winter he had mentioned.

 

“What does it matter if he’s coming? Your parents never want you around when people like _him_ visit. They’d be thrilled if you made yourself less present. You can have more time with your lover boy.”

 

Sirius ignored the last comment. “That’s precisely why I have to stay. I need to monitor their meetings, or at least be up to date. Killing the werewolf is important so I can take the kingdom over and save our people from my parent’s abuse, help with the upcoming war. But,” he sighed, “it is more important right now for me to be here, to gather intel on Marvolo’s plans.”

 

James frowned one of his genuine, non-teasing ones. “I hate that you have all this weight on your shoulders.” He put on a smile and clapped a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “What we need to do is figure out that riddle, it’s been,” James paused and looked at his fingers before shrugging, “I don’t know, a lot of months. You’ve been procrastinating because you want to spend more time with your boy. Don’t look at me like that—I’m not stupid!”

 

Sirius pouted. James was entirely right, of course. He hardly thought of the riddle anymore. He wanted more time with John, he would have no other excuse to make the long journey to see him if he figured the riddle and thoughts of not having John in his life anymore were too hard to bare.

 

“I’ll lend you my marvelous brain to help decipher it and, if you want, we can ask Lily to check up on him. She has a few days off of nursing duties.”

 

“Really? You think she’d do that?” 

 

James nodded and Sirius catapulted himself onto his best friend, hugging him tightly.

 

“Oof! Get off me you big loaf!” James said, holding on tighter.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius’ week was so packed he didn’t end up having any free time. The “Dark Lord” was exhausting them through countless council meetings, propagandizing his cause and wielding his sword of fear like a renowned knight. There was no chance of meeting with James as well, whenever people the likes of Marvolo visited, his parents made sure servants were never in sight, especially those with any trace of brown skin. Sirius kept thinking about James’ comment about the eternal winter—Sirius could count all the veins in the foreigner’s body, translucent in his paleness.

 

Sirius wouldn’t have known what night was the full moon if Lily hadn’t snuck into his room in her return from the meadow.

 

Sirius spouted out several questions without a breath, the panicked paranoia he suppressed springing forth full force. “Is he alright? What happened? Was he there?”

 

Lily stared with soft eyes and Sirius felt she saw right through him, seeing the affection he harbored for John, while also knowing something he didn’t.

 

She pulled him in for a hug and whispered, “Oh, Sirius, what have you done?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

A knot grew tighter and more complicated inside Sirius, pulling at his intestines every time he moved. He tried to detangle it when he had the time but James had been right, months had gone by since his first hunt, meaning he was closer to becoming King. His overbearing duties were doubled—training physically, socially, and mentally day and night.

 

Three weeks went by as so until his mother relieved him of her constant watch for her annual “Lady’s Week” with other women in higher ranks. Sirius was to make himself scarce as she spent her days supposedly relaxing and gossiping with her friends. The more probable story was the lethal ladies strategized how to manipulate their husbands into making the political advancements they wanted.

 

As long as Sirius didn’t get in his way, his father didn’t care what he did. Usually, Sirius tried to eavesdrop on his mother’s friends but this year he took the days as a blessing, running to find James. He raided the kitchen of food and locked themselves in Sirius’ room, finally attempting to tear the knot away by solving the riddle.

 

—

 

“The gender, the gender,” James repeated, pacing back and forth in front of Sirius’ bed. Sirius himself was lying on it, his body half-hanging off the bed, upside down. “Gen- _der, gen-_ der, gen-dar, gin-der.”

 

“Pronouncing it differently is only proving you truly were born without brains.”

 

James paused his pacing to glare. “At least I have a heart.”

 

“Hey,” Sirius said, sitting up and twisting his body to face James. “That’s cold.”

 

It was a common saying that the Blacks had a big gaping black hole in their chests where their hearts should be. James merely stuck out tongue.

 

“Well, help me out then. Why did you have to pick a tricky one,” James groaned, flinging himself onto the bed, flopping onto his back. “You couldn’t have picked a nice, simple man. No, you had to choose one of the smarties. I can feel him laughing at us, right now. Stupid cunning asshole.”

 

Pinching the skin under James’ ear, the most sensitive part of his body, Sirius threatened to tell Lily about the pickle accident if he kept saying rude things about John.

 

“Lord, someone’s touchy. I meant it as a compliment. John’s going to be my new best friend and I can’t wait to meet him, I love assholes. Why do you think I’ve stuck around you for so long?”

 

Sirius blew out a harsh breath, in a show of annoyance, but he couldn't hep but grin back at James. They fell into quiet, James on his back and Sirius sitting up.

 

After sometimes, James mused, “I bet you said something stupid. He’s poking fun at something careless you did, I can sense it.”

 

“I barely said anything! I didn’t even have a chance to be stupid.” Sirius added haughtily, “Which I wasn’t.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a real smooth aristocrat.” James paused, squinting at the ceiling as if it held the answers to the universe. Or perhaps he was staring at the spitball they got stuck up there when they were thirteen. “Truly, though, I bet my left leg you said something stupid.”

 

“Why you’re left one? Why not an arm?”

 

“Lord, fuck off and think about what you said!”

 

“Fine,” Sirius grumbled under his breath with a sullen face. “Never said anything stupid in my life, I’m brilliant and he was blown away by my intelligence immediately. And I even showed how humble I am by not being afraid to ask—oh shit,” Sirius breathed more than said. “Oh fuck oh shit oh fuck.”

 

James propped himself up on his elbows. “Ha! I knew it! What did you do? You look like that dead bloated frog I found outside.”

 

Sirius pressed three fingers to his lips, thinking he needed the answer to the last riddle, to know if it was true.

 

—

 

James laughed hysterically after Mary accidentally solved the last question, his face puffing up from the tears that streaked down his face.

 

“I love him,” he gasped between giggles. “He’s amazing. Oh cheer up, I don’t see what’s the matter.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Sirius walked into the meadow the next week, two days before the full, John was engrossed in his book, this one especially thick. Sirius’ heart leapt in his chest, John looked so pretty bathing in the sunlight, certain strands of his hair bleached more than the others. His freckles changed to an even darker brown, seeable from a distance, each time Sirius revisited. 

 

While Sirius’ insides filled with affection, his legs were stiff and his gait awkward. Why was he being so weird? This was _John._ This didn’t change anything. Sirius didn’t care about what he had learned. He didn’t.

 

John stood up as Sirius reached him and hovered an awkward distance between them. His smile stretched from ear to ear and he gazed at Sirius with dancing eyes, drinking Sirius in for they hadn’t seen each other in two months. His blond hair ruffled in the breeze. 

 

But then it all fell away. John took a step forward. Sirius squirmed and John stepped back.

 

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” John’s voice sounded detached and cold. 

 

Sirius remained frozen _fuck, why are you being like this? Say something! He’s upset!_

 

“Well,” John said, raising an eyebrow, “where’s your sword?”

 

Sirius sped through several choking sounds before he squeaked out, “What?”

 

“To slay me with.”

 

The wind picked up, pushing John’s hair back to reveal every inch of his face and pushing Sirius’ forward, his dark strands whipping over his eyes. 

 

“John!”

 

“Or maybe you’re waiting for the full moon?” John went on, listless. “You can lug me back in beast form and be admired more?”

 

Sirius nearly kneeled over to vomit. “No! Gods, no! John, I don’t care. You are John—you are still John.” Sirius’ voice cracked and he frantically pushed his hair behind his ears, insisting, “You are.”

 

John stared in an unnerving manner, his eyes dark and his mouth twisted up sourly. “That’s not even my real name. You don’t know what I am. You should kill me or never come back.”

 

Sirius couldn’t help the wounded sound he made in the back of his throat. “Who you are,” he corrected, “not what you are.”

 

“I’m not a who, I’m a _what_ —an _it_ , remember?”

 

Sirius flinched—that had been the answer to the first riddle question. John bent down and picked up his book.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’m leaving.”

 

“No! Please, let me explain.”

 

John stood up and turned his back. His voice was hushed and different, melancholic dressed in harshness. 

 

“Don’t you dare follow me.”

 

Sirius didn’t know how long he stood there, long after John had disappeared. His knees buckled and he dropped to the grass with a painful crack. He began ripping up clumps of grass until he remembered how John felt guilty for even picking flowers. Snot dripped down Sirius’ nose but he didn’t cry.

 

The bees left and the wind settled, left Sirius with nothing but reddish dirt patches from where he pulled grass.

 

—

 

Sirius arrived the next day with a basket full of pastries he had bought from town. Nothing was going to stop him today, today would be different, he would hunt down John’s home if he had to. He burned all the discomfort and hesitancy of yesterday to ashes, rebirthing in determination and conviction.

 

John was lying in the long grass, reading, but he was rigid, looking for the first time like he truly didn’t belong in the meadow. It hurt more than any of the ruthless accusations John said to Sirius yesterday, hurt more than the time Sirius drove him out of the meadow because of the armor. All the times before John left because of Sirius, never because he didn’t feel at home in his meadow. 

 

John refused to look up but he didn’t stand to leave. Sirius pitifully counted it as a win. Sitting down carefully, Sirius left a wide berth of space between them.

 

“I brought some food,” he said.

 

John ignored him, his eyes staying on the same spot of the book’s page. It was a different one from yesterday, this one even thicker, as if he wanted it known there would be no purpose to speak to Sirius unless he chose to, the book would last well past today. A hint of challenge lingered in the air around it, a dare for Sirius to try his best to gain his attention.

 

“I don’t know what you like but, um, so, I brought a few things—” Sirius had brought ten types of pastries “—there are tarts, muffins—blueberry and plain, uh, I think I have sweet rolls, chocolate croissants, I’m not quite sure what these are but they have strawberry filling, I believe.”

 

The bees had rejoined the meadow with John, along with other insects, and they were drawn to the basket full of sweets. Sirius held his breath every time they flew closer, wishing to shoo them away because these were for John, not them. He reminded himself that bees were possibly John’s James-es and he’d be damned if he didn’t earn their approval. John already had James’.

 

“Chocolate croissants?”

 

Sirius’ head snapped up at John’s voice. John’s body was exactly as it was before, not a muscle twitched, and he acted as if he had said nothing, his eyes continuing to bore into the page.

 

“Yes,” Sirius said too quickly, wrapped up in the amazement that John responded. “Do you hate them? I can get rid of them, I swear I didn’t know.”

 

John set his book down and crawled over, stopping at the basket. After wiping his hands on his shirt, he delicately sorted through and picked up one of the croissants.

 

And then he ate it.

 

Sirius stared. John finished it and grabbed another, his body relaxing. It was like watching tightly curled petals bloom.

 

“So…chocolate,” Sirius stated dumbly. “Is…good?”

 

John snorted. “Yes,” he said dryly, “chocolate is good.”

 

“Good.” Sirius couldn’t stop staring. His mind had shut down the moment John started crawling, his blood screeching to the point his thoughts couldn’t be heard. He’d expected silence, possibly lifeless snaps, never would he have thought John would warm up to him this fast. Chocolate did what Sirius thought would take him weeks to do—dissipating all the tension

 

He watched John’s tongue swipe his bottom lip, catching a speck of chocolate.

 

“Remus.”

 

Sirius pulled out of his reverie. “What?”

 

John raised his head. “My name.”

 

“Remus,” Sirius repeated, feeling the way it tasted in his mouth. His mind flashed to his early childhood days of sneaking out of the castle to pick blackberries, their sweetness worth the possibility of encountering thorns and being stained by their dark juice.

 

Much better than John. _Remus._ His heart fluttered.

 

Remus’ cheeks grew hot and it was the most amazing thing in the world, easily beating the flower crown. Gods, this man. Sirius couldn’t handle it. 

 

“What?” He asked, curious.

 

Remus’ cheeks darkened. “I like how it sounds.” He mumbled softer, “When you say my name.”

 

“Remus,” Sirius said instantly again, delighted. “I like when you say mine, too.”

 

Remus was slower to reply, shy and not looking as he said, _Sirius._

 

A bee flew near and Sirius didn’t even care. He was going to buy all the chocolate in the kingdom—he had the gold. All of it, all the chocolate, all of it for Remus. Anything to have a moment like this again, even for a second.

  

They didn’t say anything, on the same page of not wanting to break the fragility of the moment. Remus finished his croissant, slowly this time, as if he was savoring every piece. Sirius munched on a tart, still unsure of its contents.

 

After some time, Sirius said, with mock anger, “I can’t believe you called me a dimwit.”

 

Remus schooled his expression into one of innocence. 

 

Sirius scoffed and ticked off a finger for each riddle question answered. “‘It—me—dim—wit.’ Meaning: it’s me, you dimwit.”

 

Remus knocked his head back, the arch of his neck beautiful, and he laughed. His face pinked again and a tear gathered in the corner of each eye. Sirius soaked it up, smiling to the point of pain.

 

“I came up with it on the spot,” Remus said when he calmed down. “I didn’t think you’d get it. Most people don’t, or at least don’t care to.”

 

Sirius pressed a palm to his chest, paired with a scandalous expression, and Remus seemed amused by this new side of Sirius, eyebrow quirking up. “I am not most people!” 

 

Sirius added, “I almost didn’t, though. The last one was all thanks to Mary, one of Lily’s friends, she overheard me and James whispering _what is a man?”_

 

Remus leaned forward. “What did she say?”

 

“Stupid, arrogant, a few other choice words,” Sirius smirked, “and finally dim. I immediately realized.”

 

Remus let out a small giggle. The mood was so precious that Sirius didn’t want to break it but he what he had to say was essential, he needed to be clear.

 

“I’m sorry I called you ‘it’.” Remus’ gaze darted away and Sirius leaned forward, earnest. “Really, I mean it. It was careless and stupid and rude.”

 

Remus tugged on a piece of grass, not pulling it out. “You didn’t know.”

 

“I was prejudiced.” Sirius reached out and skimmed his fingertips over Remus’ hand, a soft brush before pulling away. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

 

Remus stilled and Sirius feared he ruined it all. He breathed through his anxiety by detailing Remus in his memory, the freckled tips of his ears, the darkness of his eyebrows and lashes compared to his hair, the way one side of his pink lips turned up more than the other.

 

Abruptly, Remus turned to Sirius. “Do you know what a monkey looks like?”

 

It felt like a test or a trick question. “No?”

 

“Shame,” Remus sighed. “There’s one in my book and I’ve never met one.”

 

“Okay,” Sirius paused. “Will you tell me more?”

 

Remus grabbed his book and brought it over. Sirius spent the afternoon watching Remus gesture wildly with his hands as he explained the plot. If someone asked him what the story was about, even if asked mere seconds after Remus finished, Sirius would have no clue, not even a single detail. If someone asked him what he was doing, spending time with a man he knew was a werewolf, he’d laugh and say what is someone like Remus doing here, spending time with a man he knew was supposed to kill him?

 

It made no sense and yet here they were, two boys, one of nature and one of royalty, who had no purpose or right to be sharing their presence, returning to the meadow no matter the day before’s events, for each other.

 

—

 

“Where do you find all these books?” Sirius asked the next day. “Do they come from your travels? I have never read any like these. They’d surely be banned here.”

 

“Yes and no.” Remus rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on his crossed arms, mirroring Sirius. “I met a lovely couple and stayed with them for a few seasons. One of them, Alice, she writes novels. Her husband’s a bookbinder and he makes a few copies of them, always sending one out to me. I letter back my critiques.”

 

“That’s amazing,” Sirius breathed.

 

“I suppose.”

 

“No, really, it is. You’ve gone all these places, met all these people. It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

 

Remus plucked a piece of long grass and stuck into his mouth, chewing it. “I have to, I can’t stay in one place for long.”

 

Sirius refused the thought of Remus leaving.

 

“Will you be here in a fortnight?”

 

“No, I’ll be scavenging for blood.” Remus laughed at Sirius’ alarmed face. “Yes, I’ll be here. Why?”

 

Sirius mustered up his courage. “Can I visit you?”

 

A wrinkle formed between Remus’ eyebrows. “I thought today was your goodbye. I thought you were going to leave me and find someone else to kill.”

 

Sirius bit his tongue, disgust washing over him, directed at himself. Remus was speaking as if that was how he perceived Sirius—killing with no conscience or care.

 

“Do you,” Sirius started. “Do you…want this. To be. A goodbye?”

 

Remus watched a dragonfly—a strange skinny bug Remus showed him—flying to their left. “Do you want it to be?”

 

Sirius huffed with false bravado. “Of course not, I asked you if I could visit in a fortnight, idiot. You’re my friend.”

 

“Friend?”

 

“Of course.” Sirius tapped his thumb to his pinky.

 

Remus hummed. “Well, you better bring more chocolate when you visit. Being my friend comes with a fee, you know.”

 

Sirius closed his eyes, biting his tongue hard enough to taste copper, struggling to contain his euphoria. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the first chapter/prologue Remus says: "If you must, a riddle you shall receive. First, the gender in which you assigned. Second, the person closest to everyone from the moment they are birthed. Third, what do you call a man? Fourth, how do you measure a person’s intelligence?"
> 
> 1\. when Sirius asked Remus where the werewolf is, he said, "do you know where /it/ dwells", meaning he stripped werewolves of humanity by saying "it" instead of a gender, such as "where he/she/they dwell(s)"; therefore the gender he assigned wasn't one at all  
> ANSWER: it  
> 2\. Sirius explained this one before. It's a trick question, the person closest to you will always be yourself. That means this answer has two possible answers, depending on how you phrase it. You can say "me, I'm the closest person to myself" or you can say "you, you are the closest person to yourself"  
> ANSWER: me/you  
> 3\. Remus is going all out with his sass and being v honest with how he thinks men are by default--dim  
> ANSWER: dim  
> 4\. one of the ways you can measure someone's intelligence is by their wit = quick/sharp wit vs dimwit  
> ANSWER: wit  
> All together now: it me/you dim wit = it's me you dimwit


	5. something like that

“What have you done with your hair?”

 

Blood rushed to Sirius’ cheeks. James had helped him get ready, a fortnight had passed and Sirius was going to the meadow as promised. His best friend insisted that Sirius looked irresistible with his hair gelled back. Remus was too kind to laugh at Sirius but he looked like he sorely wished to.

 

Sirius was going to punch the living daylights out of James when he returned to the castle.

 

“Change of plans,” Remus said, saving Sirius from having to come up with a response. “Carry the chocolate basket and follow me.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

Remus winked without a reply. Sirius hated surprises, he wanted to know everything all the time. It was equal parts frustrating and wonderful to be among Remus, and Sirius lived in a constant state of oblivious anticipation, standing on the edge of a cliff in the most thrilling way. Some people looked to the life of a royal and felt envious of the lifestyle, imagining the luxuries and freedom—the excitement of power. Sirius understood and didn’t understand it. If he could choose to live a commoner life, he would in a heartbeat and perhaps commoners would feel that to be crazy. It was a selfish thought as well, Sirius was the one chance this kingdom had of returning to the light side.

 

Sirius never experienced the adventure people assumed royals had but being with Remus, this is the type of feeling he believed they yearned for.

 

He trailed behind Remus like the lovesick puppy he was, entering the forest with the basket of chocolates. He deeply hoped he was being brought to Remus’ home, he wanted to know everything about this strange man. It felt like a huge leap to be even going into the forest, it appeared of huge significance for Remus to invite him in and Sirius was infinitely grateful. Not for a second did Sirius assume the forest was merely a forest—it was Remus’ home, his family, it was Remus himself.

 

About fifteen minutes of silence later, with intermittences of chocolate breaks, listening to the gentle coos of birds, they arrived at a small lake, or a large pond. Remus placed his book down, Sirius setting down the basket, and he began stripping out of his clothes. Down to his underwear in no time, Remus dropped his thin and few garments in a crumpled pile by his feet.

 

Sirius died. He was in heaven. He was blessed. His jaw hung open.

 

“What,” his voice was hoarse, “are you doing?”

 

“I’m gonna fix your hair but I’m not touching it until all the gel is out,” Remus said, not quite scandalized. He appeared not to be fazed in the slightest at standing, nearly naked, out in the open. In front of Sirius.

 

Sirius stalled. “I don’t know what’s in the lake.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Remus smirked, “I’ll save you from the big bad tadpoles.”

 

Sirius hesitated. What if Remus thought Sirius’ body was unappealing? Sirius would die, and not in a good way this time. And what were tadpoles—large water snakes with bloodthirsty fangs? Sirius was woeful to admit he believed the former was far more frightening than the latter.

 

Remus sensed Sirius’ insecurities and he turned his back, walking into the water, giving Sirius however much space and time he required. Sirius glanced around to make sure no one hid or crept in the bushes but, as always, this end of the kingdom was completely abandoned beside creatures. He became less sure each day if this area even counted as The Nobel and Ancient Kingdom Of Black, and in his mind, he credited it as Remus’ Realm, formerly John’s Realm.

 

Sirius peeled his clothes off one by one, taking longer for he had more layers than Remus did, as it was seen as more appropriate and respectable, as well as affordable. Even James’ servant clothes were expensive-looking compared to Remus’. He untied his boots and carefully peeled off his socks, folding everything up neatly, a stark contrast to Remus’ messy pile. Inhaling a deep breath, he examined his body. He’d always been smug about his face—or he never spent the time to consider it something to think of, it was a fact of life that Blacks were known for their beauty. Upon seeing dark hair, grey eyes, sharp facial structure, and long lashes, people murmured, _ah, you must be a Black._ Often followed by, _you are even more beautiful (or handsome) as they say._

 

Sirius’ body was a different story. Underneath formfitting clothes, he looked ghastly pale from being unexposed to sunlight and it made the black hair on his legs and chest stand out. His stomach had a layer of pudge, firm muscles lay underneath it from all the combat training but he was also well fed from feasts for every meal. An abundance of unappealing flab—that was how he’d describe himself.

 

With whispering insecurities swirling in his head, Sirius inhaled and exhaled shakily before walking forward. The grass became more sparse and squishy from mud. Feeling the earth barefoot was a strange experience, certainly not something he’d felt since early childhood, and it felt a little gross, the squelching sound of mud going between his toes. How did Remus go through this all the time? Sirius was momentarily baffled and impressed by the fact Remus walked barefoot through the rest of the forest, harsh ground with pebbles and twigs. Sirius had never seen him flinch or complain, or even look to see what he’d be stepping on.

 

Sirius reached the semi-murky water, lapping forward as if extending fingers to grasp his ankles, and he stepped in, swearing instantly.

 

“It’s freezing!”

 

Remus turned around to face Sirius and his face lightened with mischief. “You get used to it. It’s best to dunk your head under and get the shock over with.”

 

Sirius squealed as his head broke through the surface of the water seconds later, his face tingling from the cold, a burning numb. Remus hunched over, the water only up to his hips, laughing. 

 

“Liar! Wait—your head isn’t even wet!”

 

Remus’ shoulders shook and Sirius swam over, cupping water and flinging it into Remus’ face. Spluttering, Remus rubbed his eyes and Sirius’ stomach clenched with guilt until Remus swiped a hand across the surface of the water, snapping his wrist up at the end to propel water at Sirius. They broke out into a water fight, becoming accustomed to the water without realizing. It even felt a bit warm, actually.

 

They called a truce, brought on by Sirius dignified pleading—Remus had a wicked talent of being able to stay afloat on his back while kicking his legs in a thrashing matter, soaking Sirius effectively. Remus brushed his hand through his soaked blond hair, pushing it back from where it plastered to his face, and Sirius’ eyes were drawn to the long red scar running from his shoulder to the inside of his elbow. Remus dropped his arm and used the other to cover it, his expression guarded. Shame pooled in Sirius’ belly but he couldn’t help but catalogue the other thin scars littering the slight body, though none extended to the face, his eyes roaming with little subtlety.

 

All Remus’ confidence from earlier flew right out the window, leaving him to drag his teeth across his lip harshly. He looked incredibly small, his shoulders curving inwards.

 

“I like your moles,” Sirius blurted.

 

“What?”

 

“Your moles,” Sirius repeated, swimming closer. He lightly tapped the five dark moles on the left side of Remus’ ribs. “They look like a face smiling. See, there’s the two eyes and,” Sirius focused on controlling the trembling of his hand, skimming his pointer finger lightly in a curve over Remus’ wet skin, “these are the smile.”

 

“Oh.” Remus looked down at them. “I guess they do.”

 

Before Remus could be pulled back under insecurity, Sirius asked, “Will you fix my hair now?”

 

Remus nodded absently and swam back to the bank, walking in the shallows and then back onto the grass. Sirius followed behind at a short distance, taking advantage of looking at Remus’ backside. His underwear clung to his skin.

 

Upset to discover his feet, clean from the water, now had to be dirtied again by mud, Sirius left the lake and came to where Remus was sitting up on the drier ground.

 

“Sit in front of me.” Sirius did. “Do you mind if I touch your hair?”

 

Sirius thought of saying you can touch me anywhere but ruled against it. “No.”

 

Remus’ long fingers threaded through Sirius’ hair, gentle as he untangled the knots. Sirius became boneless and a small happy sound rumbled in the back of his throat. He fucking loved James and was going to buy him whatever he wanted for making Sirius’ hair so ugly Remus had to fix it. Remus parted his hair into strands and begin moving them around and as much as Sirius enjoyed it—which was a lot, like _a lot—_ he didn’t know if he could handle Remus ever doing it again. The careful way he touched Sirius’ hair felt unbelievably tender and intimate, making his heart ache something dreadful.

 

Even so, Sirius’ stomach weighed down as he felt Remus’ hands go lower, coming to the end of Sirius’ hair and therefore a finish.

 

“I don’t have anything to tie the end with,” Remus said, letting go. “It will come out soon but if you like it, bring a ribbon next time and I can do it again.”

 

Sirius reached his hand back over his shoulder, down over the back of his hair, feeling the knobs and recognizing it as a braid he’d seen ladies wear at balls. Men occasionally wore their hair back in the military, but never in a tasteful manner, for practicality. To Sirius, who was allowed green buttons, if the color was exceptionally dark, as the only acceptable form of creativity in attire, just the idea of wearing a braid was beyond thrilling. 

 

“This is brilliant! Oh, I wish I had a mirror to see! How does it look?” Sirius turned his head to see Remus. “How do I look?”

 

Remus rolled his eyes, heavily sardonic. “I won’t be responsible for your fat head swelling more so.”

 

“Oh, so you do think I look dashing? Beautiful,” Sirius teased.

 

He certainly didn’t expect the corners of Remus’ eyes to crinkle, his eyes looking darker under the shade of trees. “Something like that.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius came to the meadow as often as he could the following six weeks. He didn’t think every time would be better than the last, but it was. 

 

Remus often muttered under his breath _what have I done?_ in relation to Sirius’ new behavior. All Sirius’ walls and worries of embarrassing himself (he accepted that he would and that was life) fully fell away, leaving his frantic excited energy to burst forth. Even with James, he would have to tone his true personality down, for fear of being caught improper, but here in the open with Remus, he could be who he truly was. Remus simply rolled with the punches, adjusting to Sirius’ new behavior as if there had been a hole waiting and now it was filled, snug and familiar, but Sirius.

 

Their days of sitting quietly or reading became less and less often. Sirius incessantly bugged Remus to do something fun, like go swimming, and Remus started bringing him into the forest more, showing his favorite places.

 

Sirius’ favorite day was when Remus introduced him to the old tree a bit of a way into the forest, knobs excellent for climbing up and thick branches wide enough you could lie on your back. Sirius had made the grave mistake of seeing how far he could climb up, where the branches became more narrow. Remus berated him for climbing too high and to come back down but Sirius declared himself a monkey.

 

“You wanted to see a monkey, Remus!” He shouted. “It is my duty to fulfill your wishes!”

 

He hoped to impress Remus by hanging from a branch with one hand, trying to imitate the sound of a monkey like the book said, but his sweaty grip slipped and he fell to the ground, crashing through branches.

 

He landed flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and Remus appeared in his blurry vision, standing over him.

 

“A truly spectacular monkey, you are,” he said, the corners of his lips quivering. 

 

Sirius slipped further and further into the abyss for this man with an overbite and freckled cheeks and quick wit. He knew his heart’s desire would never happen, and Remus appeared oblivious to it all anyway, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much, as long as they could have days like these.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius had the kitchen staff bake a big chocolate cake. He had never been with Remus after the full moon, only right before and the weeks afterward.They danced around the lycanthropy subject, to the point Sirius often forgot, and he didn’t know how painful transformations were but he assumed chocolate would be a nice gift.

 

The layered cake was a little squished by the time he arrived at the meadow and Remus was nowhere in sight. Trying to ignore his pounding heart, Sirius ventured into the forest, not realizing how vulnerable he felt without Remus. It felt wrong to go in uninvited and he imagined the winds were the trees whispering about him. He searched the spots he had gone to with Remus before but it was fruitless—Remus was gone. Sirius alternated between flinching at the sound of twigs cracking and having horrible flashes of Remus’ body mauled and bloody.

 

Sirius had taken a few wrong turns trying to find his way back to the meadow when he stumbled across a cabin. It was small with wood that looked old in some places and in other places new. A small garden laid in front, filled with vegetables Sirius had never seen before on one half, and flowers on the second half. A slender tree sat next to the cabin’s only window and its many branches had tied strings of thin rope hanging down with bits of glass attached to the ends, clinking pleasantly together in the wind and casting shadows of the glass’ color—blues and greens, even a red and purple.

 

Was this Remus’ home? It felt very Remus-y. Serene and weird and a bit magical. Sirius walked up, mindful of the garden, and knocked on the door.

 

“Remus?”

 

No answer. Sirius knocked again. No answer. He carefully pushed the door open, relieved and alarmed it had no lock. 

 

The cabin consisted of a single room. Books piled up in every corner in some chaotic order system, and there sat three mismatched armchairs, frayed and old, near a dodgy looking fireplace. He counted at least five cups of abandoned or forgotten tea in chipped cups. His eyes rounded to the bed pushed up against the back corner of the room, furthermost from the door. 

 

“Remus!”

 

The bundle under the quilts made a small grunt and Sirius raced over, dropping the box of cake to the floor in his haste. He knelt by the bedside, pushing the quilt back enough to see Remus’ face. He took in the dark circles underneath Remus’ eyes and the labored breathing, the wincing it caused. His tan from days in sunlight faded to a peaky pale complexion.

 

Sirius reached over and ran his hand from the top of Remus’ head—his hair was so soft—down to his chapped cheek, his skin unbelievable hot. “Remus,” the desperation in his voice was palpable. “Remus, do you need a nurse? Are you hurt—of course you’re hurt, ignore that. What happened? Did another werewolf attack you? Are there other werewolves here? Do you need me to get Lily?”

 

Remus opened his mouth and a croaked sound came out. 

 

“Lemme,” Sirius interrupted himself to grab one of the tea cups. He brought it to Remus’ lips, helping him to sip. “There.”

 

Remus weakly pushed Sirius away with shaking arms after a swallow. “Ack, cold tea.” His nose wrinkled and in Sirius’ distressed state he still recognized how adorable it was. “Bleh.”

 

“Maybe if you kept water around or remembered to drink tea while it’s hot, you wouldn’t have to complain. Really, Remus,” Sirius forced a chuckle, “you live like an old man who has lost his marbles.”

 

Remus cracked on eye open. “Oh, you’re in my cabin.” He closed his eye and spread his shaking arms wide. “Welcome to paradise.”

 

He grimaced after a breath and dropped his arms, retreating them under the quilt.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I’m fine. Post-moons are not much fun. I should have warned you not to come on these days. Figures your stupid ass can’t be kept away.” Remus cracked a small smile. “It takes a while for my injuries to heal. It’s not bad really, if you forget the broken ribs.”

 

“YOUR RIBS ARE BROKEN?”

 

“Ow, no yelling, please.” Sirius shrank. “Too much talking. Sleep now.” Remus’ words began slurring. “Climb in.”

 

Sirius choked out, “In bed?”

 

“Yes, you dimwit, go around the other side and get under the covers and be quiet.” Sirius only understood Remus’ speech from knowing him well. To any other, the words sounded too garbled to decipher. “Grab a book to read if you can’t sleep.”

 

Sirius swiped a book off a teetering stack and, on soft feet, came to the other side of the bed. He gingerly pulled the quilt up and climbed in after Remus shivered from the opening. He cringed at the creaking that came with every movement, the frame of the bed old and objecting the added weight. Settling against the short headboard, Sirius read through the afternoon, absorbed into the book about two female witches. Remus inched closer and closer to Sirius in his sleep again, pressing his trembling body against Sirius’ outstretched legs, seeking warmth despite his high temperature. Absently, Sirius petted Remus’ head, pushing through the soft damp hair, and mentally accounted every hitched breath, the seconds between each.

 

Sirius gasped when the two witches kissed and he heard a snicker. He looked down to see Remus awake, his eyes glossy but sharp.

 

“Did they kiss yet?”

 

Sirius nodded, his stomach clenching and unclenching. Talking about kissing with Remus—while in bed!—did weird things to his heart.

 

“I liked that one. One of Al’s best, I think.”

 

“Al?”

 

“Alice. ’S what I call her.”

 

Sirius wanted to ask how Remus felt. Instead, he pouted, asking why he didn’t have a nickname.

 

“Oh, you do.” Sirius perked up. “It’s asshole.”

 

Sirius raised his hand to push Remus’ shoulder before aborting the action. “You jerk! And to think I brought you cake!”

 

Remus’ face lit up. “Cake? Is it chocolate?”

 

Sirius sniffed. “Maybe.”

 

“I take everything back, you’re marvelous and brilliant and very pretty.” Remus wrapped his arms around one of Sirius’ legs under the covers, hugging it loosely, and rested his head on Sirius’ upper thigh, looking up at him through his eyelashes. His voice was gravelly as he chanted, “Cake, cake, cake!”

 

Sirius gulped. His brain was shouting PRETTY HE CALLED YOU PRETTY. He peeled Remus off, so reluctantly, picked up the cake box near the doorway, and brought it back. Remus had pulled himself upright and his face looked slightly pained but he grinned ecstatically. How Remus did it with _broken ribs_ , Sirius didn’t know.

 

“It’s a little squished and it looks a little weird after I dropped it on the floor. The box kept it intact and it should taste fine,” Sirius babbled as he slid back under the covers.

 

“Be quiet and let me enjoy my cake,” Remus scolded. Sirius realized he didn’t ask where the silverware was but Remus didn’t mind, opening the box and grabbing a chunk of cake with his hands.

 

“Omagods,” he said around the cake. “ _So_ good.”

 

He ate several handfuls, small moans between bites, before he was sated. Sirius watched as he licked his fingers clean. By the time Remus licked the last stripe of chocolate off his thumb, his eyes were droopy once more. He reached his hand out and Sirius instinctively handed over a cup of tea, waiting to take it back after Remus drank it all.

 

“’M sorry I’m so tired. You don’ havta stay, I know ’s boring.”

 

Sirius chastised him and told him to come over and sleep, dammit. Remus looked guilty for a moment, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled, before he scooted over, pressing his length to Sirius’ legs once more. When Remus’ breathing evened out, Sirius cautiously wiped chocolate off Remus’ cheek. He resumed reading and threading his fingers through blond hair. Every time his hand stilled, Remus made a barely audible whimper.

 

Sirius cried when he finished the book, trying to stifle it so as not to wake Remus. He flipped to the back of the last page and saw a scribbled note in messy handwriting.

 

_Rem—_

_Oh, I feel this is awful! I’ve been in that mood where I hate everything I create. It’s driving Frank crazy but it’s alright because he is also driving_ me _crazy. (There’s a fucking woodpecker keeping me up at night but he won’t chase it away because it’s apparently his new ‘friend’). Shower my writing in compliments, I don’t care if you have to lie through your teeth._

_We worry about you, dear. I hope you are not too lonely and find your own Arnold soon._

_Love, Alice_

 

When the sun was setting, Remus woke up looking barely lucid.

 

“You stay with me?” He mumbled, lips brushing against Sirius’ thigh, creating instant goosebumps. 

 

Sirius really shouldn’t. He would get in trouble—he had Princely chores to do. Remus made an indecipherable mumbled sound, his chapped lips brushing more firmly against Sirius’ skin. Sirius slid down to lie down face to face with Remus.

 

“Of course,” he spoke softly. “There’s nothing that would stop me from being with you.”

 

Remus opened his glazed eyes and stared at Sirius for a few minutes without saying anything. 

 

“Sirius,” he mumbled eventually, as if it meant something awfully important.

 

“Remus,” Sirius whispered back.

 

Remus didn’t smile but his serene face looked the equivalent of one, and went to sleep.

 

—

 

At some point in the night, they ended up with their limbs intertwined, skin and clothing pressed to skin and clothing. 

 

Sirius had wondered all those months ago what it would be like to wake up to Remus in the morning. The lazy smile, ruffled hair, and flushed cheeks were better than anything he had imagined. 

 

It was worth the slap and screeching from his mother when he returned to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the comments on the last chapter!!! I'm going on a medical leave right now and I had a really stressful week so they cheered me up a bunch : )!


	6. ticking clock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing of beekeeping etc., it was all quick research and I've never eaten honey with comb in it ( I legit watched a five min video of a random man eating honeycomb for the first time to see his reaction )

“Sirius Orion,” Walburga said, after she dismissed the military general she was conferring with, “when did you start your beast hunting?”

 

“Ten mo—”

 

“Ten months, one week, and two days ago,” Walburga went on. “How long does royalty have to exterminate a werewolf in order to become King or Queen?”

 

“A ye—”

 

“Thirteen moons is the time limit. How many does that leave you?”

 

Sirius didn’t bother trying to reply.

 

“Three.” She picked up the scroll meticulously marked with strategic notes and began reading it over. “If you fail, Prince Regulus will take over the hunt and your place for the throne. You are dismissed.”

 

Sirius clenched his fists underneath the table. “Yes, mother.”

 

“Your Highness,” Walburga corrected, eyes still on the scroll.

 

“Yes, your _Highness.”_

_  
—_

 

“Word on the mill is the Queen whooped your ass this morning. Again.”

 

Sirius leaned against a tree trunk, wiping the sweat dripping down his forehead. He set his sword down and waved his partner, Bones, off.

 

“Does everyone know everything around here?”

 

James shrugged. “We crave entertainment of some sort and nothing’s more entertaining than the lives of Blacks. Quite scandalous.” James leaned forward and, cupping a hand around his mouth, whispered conspiratorially, “I hear the eldest son is a spoiled prat.”

 

“Fuck off,” Sirius said, grinning, and shoved James’ shoulder.

 

“What are you gonna do? You’ve spent fucking years biting your tongue and being the perfect son,” Sirius raised his eyebrows and James rolled his eyes, “alright, the perfect son after Reggie, to secure the crown and revolutionize the kingdom—once your bastard parents have no power. Are you going to give that all up?”

 

Sirius blood spiked and without thinking he snapped, “Are you saying I should kill Remus?”

 

“No,” he shot Sirius a withering glare, “you know I’ve been against this stupid tradition from the start. We have to think of a new plan.”

 

Sirius was used to being on his own. In the years he had grown up, he had been prohibited from spending time with the “lowly servant Potter”, forcing the two boys to meet privately in the rare chances they could. His eyes stupidly welled up, the weight on his shoulders lifting in a way that felt physically real.

 

“I don’t think I can kill a different person,” Sirius whispered. “I know I can’t. I don’t know if I would have even if I never met Remus.”

 

James clasped Sirius’ shoulder. “I know,” he murmured. With more bravado, he said, “I don’t know if you’ve heard but we are kinda,” James scrunched his face, acting nonchalant, “most definitely, the greatest pranksters of all time and there’s nothing we can’t solve. Especially if we acquire Lily’s help.”

 

“Would she?”

 

James snorted. “We have a bet going, dependent on him living. One week’s salary for which one of you idiots makes the first romantic move. I bet you and she bet Remus. So, hell yeah.”

 

Sirius smiled, knowing it to mostly be a joke. They all knew Sirius and Remus could never happen, at least not this century, maybe not ever. After all, Lily had looked at him with such pity when she realized he was stupid enough to fall in love, after she had met Remus. 

 

It was nice to be treated as if this situation was exactly like one between him and a princess, something less forbidden, something attainable. Something to joke about and bet on, as if it was inevitable for it to happen.

 

Sirius yanked James in for a crushing hug. “You’re the best friend anyone could ask for.”

 

James’ body shook from guilty chuckles. “Okay, now I feel bad, I have to confess. I lied, Lily bet you and I bet Remus would confess first. Ouch! _Fuck._ Take your blasted ring off before you hit me!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Sirius and Remus were back at the lake, floating on their backs, far away from the bank, where the depth of water was unknown. Sirius couldn’t shake off this gloomy feeling since he woke up.

 

“Sure,” Remus drawled. “Silence is natural for you. It’s not as if you’re normally hyperverbal and pestering me with a million questions and want to go off adventuring.”

 

Sirius sank down in order to tread water. When wet, Remus’ hair looked browner and tended to flop across his forehead. He floated effortlessly, his body more liquid than solid, not a single muscle twitching, and it enthralled Sirius to no end.

 

He forced his eyes to look away, staring off at the waterlilies at the far end of the lake-pond, his chest aching. “I had a fight with my parents—my mother, a few mornings ago.”

 

Remus made a faint humming sound, the kind Sirius knew meant Remus was acknowledging something had been said and he was thinking of a response. He usually did this when they laid in the sunlight for extended bouts of time, turning both their brain’s thinking slow and languid.

 

“‘You ate my special pudding and now I hate you’ type of fight,” Remus finally asked, “or ‘I’m pissed at you because I’m in a foul mood’ type.”

 

“How about ‘you’re an utter failure and I hope you fail so your younger brother, the only son in my eyes, can be next-in-line while we banish you as a disgrace’?”

 

Remus’ voice turned quite small when he said, “Oh.” He switched to treading water as well, to see Sirius’ face.

 

“My parents are wonderful,” Sirius added, making sure to heavily lace his voice cloyingly. “I adore the way Mother instinctively snaps _Sirius_ to whoever annoys her because my name is that synonymous with irritation.”

 

Remus frowned at Sirius.“Change of plans. Follow me.”

 

“What?”

 

Sirius’ bitter demeanor must have been visibly startling because Remus actually offered up an explanation. “We’re going somewhere special, something I haven’t shown you yet.”

 

Well, a cryptic explanation, but still one nonetheless. Sirius watched Remus swimming, his smooth form and how the water seemed to move him instead of the other way around, before he started swimming back. Sirius would have lingered longer but his legs cramped awfully from the treading.

 

—

 

Sirius gawked at the beehive, or what he assumed was a beehive. Columns of large honeycomb hung from one of the tree’s low branches, looking far too heavy to be hanging on. Several bees were clinging around the bottom half of it.

 

“I know you don’t like bees,” Remus started slowly, “and I won’t think less of you if you want to stay to the side.”

 

Indignation flared in Sirius and he knew Remus was purposely taunting him. He fell for it anyway. “I do like bees!” He crossed his arms. Sticking his nose in the air, he proclaimed, “I’m fearless.”

 

“Sirius,” Remus said fondly. “The first time we met you shuddered when a bee flew near you.”

 

“Did not!”

 

“Did too.”

 

“Did not!”

 

“Did too.”

 

“Did not!”

 

“Did too.”

 

“I did, you’re right.”

 

Remus laughed at Sirius’ confession and Sirius puffed out his chest at the achievement, a small whirl of warmth building in his stomach. He listened as Remus explained that Sirius could help start a fire; the smoke would relax the bees.

 

“I don’t like to, though. It’s harmless but I do not like making them unwillingly sleepy. We won’t let too much smoke near them and we won’t take too much honey either.” Remus nibbled his lower lip, conflicted. “I rarely do this. In repayment I plant and care for a small field of flowers a few steps to the left, they always love my gardens.”

 

Sirius glanced to the left, the field abundant of a variety of flowers, mostly yellow ones, and he thought of Alice’s note—which he thought of often, particularly before sleep—about Fred and the woodpecker. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

 

Remus frowned. “You deserve this. Now be quiet and make me a fire torch.”

 

—

 

Five or so stings and a short run later, the two boys sat on the rickety back porch of Remus’ cabin.

 

“I thought,” Sirius breathed hard—they’d sprinted fast, “you said the smoke made them _relaxed!_ ”

 

“I said I don’t like using it too much on them. You only got a few stings!”

 

Sirius laid down on his back, his head thunking on the wood. “I hate you. Why do I ever listen to you?”

 

“Hm, did you say something?” Remus asked sweetly. Sirius snorted. “Here, have some honey. You can put it on your stings too, it will help.”

 

Remus handed over one of the pieces with a honey coated hand. Sitting back up, Sirius took it slowly. He’d never had honey with the comb in it. The kitchen staff left jars on the dining table with only the honey part. Sirius didn’t even realize it came in combs, he never thought of it. He took a bite and honey oozed over his hand. He chewed—it was chewy and the honey tasted different than the ones from the castle. He told Remus so.

 

Remus talked around a mouthful. “It tastes based on the types of flowers bees visit. Your gardens have different flowers than mine, I collect a variety of seeds when I travel, so the honey they produce tastes depending on that.”

 

Remus’ range and depth of knowledge were unbelievable. Sirius felt he learned more in a day with Remus than he had in a month of his private studies as a child. 

 

Sirius adapted to the new taste and texture, eating greedily, falling in love with it, this new thing he’d always remember as Remus. They ate quietly, soaking in the remaining sunlight of the day, content to be together. Sirius had laced his boots on when they trekked to the beehive, unable to walk barefoot as Remus did, and Remus giggled sporadically when he’d look at Sirius, finding the combination of no clothes, besides boxers, and a pair of boots a ridiculous sight. They hadn’t changed back into their clothes after swimming, their bodies too wet. Remus admitted as they were fleeing the hive that their nakedness probably wasn’t his greatest idea, seeing as there were more body parts available to sting. At least now, Sirius thought to himself, they had no clothes to get sticky as they ate. 

 

Remus’ hair had dried, the wet curls now straight and golden. His scars looked almost shiny in the sunlight filtering in through the trees, more visible. Remus’ boxers were dry now as well and Sirius tried to avoid looking down at them. They were a size too small, looking old and white and worn thin. Sirius himself kept trying to causally move his legs for more modesty, though his underwear was longer, darker, and of thicker material.

 

The rest of Remus’ body looked more filled out, his ribs less prominent. He goaded Sirius from time to time, saying Sirius was trying to fatten him up with all the chocolate and treats. It wasn’t exactly Sirius’ motive, but the healthier the Remus, the happier the Sirius. The long red scar Sirius had seen when they first went swimming had faded away and healed, as the others from the following moons did, taking a week or two to heal but still to an inhumanly fast extent.

 

Sirius wished he could care for Remus openly and to the fullest extent. To nurse him after the moon, to wake up pressed together not because Remus had asked in a delirious state but because he wanted Sirius in the same way. Sirius had no idea what he was going to do for the hunt. He didn’t know how this would affect them, Remus, these not-dates in the meadow and forest. He needed to figure out this soon and fast—everything was going to change. He wouldn’t be able to pretend he could do this for eternity, act as if this was his life, being with Remus as not a Prince.

 

Sirius finished his honey. His mind began thinking and his body responded to it in an exhilarating panic. His blood pumped wildly, he could hear its beat, the tips of his fingers and toes tingled numbly, his face was probably red.

 

“Remus.”

 

“One secn’d.” Remus swallowed his last bite, oblivious, and licked honey off his fingers. Sirius’ face was most definitely red. Remus looked at Sirius pleasantly. “Yes?”

 

“Do you.” Sirius took a breath. “Do you remember,” he forced each word out, “the book you read when we first met?”

 

“I don’t. The one with the mountain lion?”

 

“No,” Sirius’ voice cracked and he coughed. “It was the one with Arnold and…Jacob.”

 

“Woah,” Remus looked surprised, “you can remember that?”

 

“I remember everything about you.” If he was going to jump off the cliff, Sirius might as well go all out. Actually, it was less about bravery and more about his brain being blown apart and his mouth doing all the work, spitting out all the embarrassing thoughts. 

 

“Oh. Well.” Remus flustered. “Okay?”

 

Sirius’ heart hammered. “Do you…like those,” his voice quivered, “type of books?”

 

Green eyes widened in shock and Remus’ breath hitched. Sirius counted seven silent seconds.

 

“Sirius.” Remus looked shyly determined. He annunciated each word, just as he did when he reiterated the riddle to Sirius eight months ago, “If I try something, will you promise to stop me if I’m reading this wrong or if I’m right but you don’t want this?”

 

Sirius nodded, or gave a weird jerk of his head, not even daring to interpret the meaning. Remus shifted closer, closer, their knees touching. Sirius could count the freckles on his cheeks—seven, so far. His gaze dropped to Remus’ lips, at the quick swipe of a pink tongue over them. His eyes flickered up to Remus’ and he lost his breath. Never had someone looked at Sirius so intensely, as if they saw everything inside of him and somehow loved it all.

 

It was too much, far more than Sirius deserved, and he had to shut his eyes. Moments passed, Sirius couldn’t even count, and something pressed to his lips, soft yet rough. He gasped minutely before eagerly responding, instinctively tilting his head around Remus’ large nose and opening his mouth a breath to slot their mouths together. It was sticky with sweet traces of honey, soft and chapped, hot breaths, a little slippery with competing rhythms, and matching smiles through it all. 

 

Remus broke away and Sirius opened his eyes, taking immense pride in Remus’ flush and dazed green eyes, his now-red lips parted open slightly.

 

“I wish you had done that before the honey,” Remus chuckled after he had shaken his head, regaining his composure, and he raised his sticky hands. He bit his lip before hesitantly admitting, “I kept wanting to hold you.”

 

Sirius felt stupid for needing reassurance but there was a strange way in which Remus had said _I wish you had_. He asked, trying to play it off as teasing, “Do you say that because this is the only time we’ll kiss?”

 

Remus smiled sadly, his voice serious as he replied, “I’ll kiss you for as much time as we have.”

 

Sirius knew he wasn’t talking about how much time was left in the day. 

 

Remus pressed a kiss to the corner of Sirius’ mouth for exactly eight seconds. “Let’s wash off and get our clothes, darling.”

 

_Darling._ Oh, how Sirius was head over heels in love and how his heart would always be with Remus forever. Oh, how much he adored him, how he wanted him, how he cared.

 

Lily had asked him what had he done and the answer was that wasn’t even a question. He was powerless to loving Remus—a man, a werewolf, everything forbidden. It was the worst situation to be in but Sirius would have chosen it even if it was a choice. 

 

He hadn’t done anything, it was an inevitable happening.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“No!”

 

“YES!”

 

James flopped on the carpet floor, stomach down, with a final wail. Lily sat on his back and he groaned feebly. Sirius tried to shush them, for caution of being discovered, but he was too far gone to care. 

 

“One week’s salary, Potter,” Lily said smugly. “Oh, I do love winning.”

 

James lifted his head up from the carpet a minuscule amount to speak. “One, we’ve been together for a year, will you ever stop calling me by my last name? Two, I’m glad you love winning because you’ve won the greatest prize there is, me.”

 

Lily flicked the back of his head. Sirius dropped to the floor beside them, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his elbows.

 

“That’s what you get, Potter,” he teased, “for being a traitor.”

 

“Hey, Remus is the real traitor here! I put my faith in him and look what he did—stabbed me in the back, betrayed me before we’ve even met!”

 

“You’re shit at make bets, James.” Lily reached to pat James’ head but hesitated over his wild hair, thought better of it, and ended up patting his shoulder.

 

“Well, you’re shit at—Fuck. Is there anything you’re shit at?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Gods,” James sighed, lying his head back down on one cheek. “I love you.”

 

Sirius gagged. “This is my time to be revolting with love. I’ve suffered twenty-one years of your grossness.”

 

“Technically, Lily’s a year younger making it impossible for me to be infatuated twenty-one years when she didn’t exist the first year. Then, we were all poop and spit and screaming for our first five years or so, which means you’ve only suffered—Lily do the math for me.”

 

“Fifteen to sixteen years.”

 

“Fifteen to sixteen years!” James repeated with gusto.

 

“Have I told you how much I hate you—don’t answer, that’s not a question, you idiot. If you’re going to be rude, I won’t tell you any details.”

 

Sirius was momentarily stunned by how in sync Lily and James were, how Lily rolled off James’ back seconds before James sprung up. He shouted, “No! You haven’t told me a single detail about the kiss.”

 

Sirius mimed locking his lips and tossing the key over his shoulder.

 

“Please,” James begged, “you can’t do this to me. I’m the biggest support of this relationship, I’m your military general, equipped with an army of a thousand men to protect you two and ensure your relationship’s safety!”

 

The level of intensity brought on a pregnant pause.

 

“Al-righty then,” Lily drawled out. “I think someone’s up way past their bedtime.”

 

“No!” Lily raised an eyebrow at James. “Argh, fine. The next time I see you,” James pointed a finger at Sirius threateningly, “I expect everything. Notes, diagrams, a step-by-step explanation.”

 

Lily stood up, pulling James up by his shirt. She hooked her elbow around his, semi-dragging him from the room.

 

“At least sustain me with one detail! Make a face or something!”

 

Sirius struggled to neutralize his face but he must have failed spectacularly because right as Lily shut the door, James’ face lit up and he released a scandalous _oooh_ before the door closed.

 

Sirius flopped onto his back, letting out a sigh. He touched his lips and remembered the taste of honey.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius and Remus didn’t kiss again next week. Not that Sirius minded at all, and he hoped Remus didn’t either. If that was something Remus didn’t like to do, Sirius wouldn’t care. To be with Remus was enough for him.

 

Everything was different but in a good way. They shared sly, soft looks, and each time it happened Sirius stumbled. There was never anyone around them, since that large blueberry-shaped man who had harassed Remus months ago, they never saw anyone besides birds and insects. Despite no one being around them, their smiles felt breathtakingly secretive and special. 

 

In the first few minutes when Sirius would arrive at the meadow, Remus would be shy, as if he expected Sirius to not want him anymore. All Sirius needed to do was grab his hand, intertwine their fingers, and Remus would melt. He’d make eye contact, sit and swim impossibly close to Sirius, swing legs on the same tree branch, and even invite Sirius into his home. His sarcasm both decreased and increased, the type that put up defensive walls slowly slipped away and gave way to unapologetic, brash humor. 

 

Sirius learned several swear words he had never thought were possible.

 

However, Remus never strayed from his kindness. Sometimes he’d slip up, saying hello to the bees or compliment a plant in his garden, always with pink cheeks when he realized Sirius was with him. He’d stare challengingly at Sirius as if daring him to tease him for talking with nature. 

 

Sirius felt loopy with affection. 

 

He could never stay for full days anymore but any chance he found, he’d scamper off to the meadow. Out of the last six days, he’d seen Remus four and a half times. Anytime he was caught returning to the palace, he escaped punishment by lying about his hunt, pretending he was tracking an imaginary werewolf.

 

They’d seen each other barely five times since the kiss but it felt like they were cramming a lifetime into each day. 

 

They’d spent a night together, the weather warm enough they could sleep in the meadow, under the stars. Remus had Sirius tell story after story, laughing and gasping at all the right places, interrupting ever so often to point out a shooting star.

 

“Tell me about the horses escaping,” Remus had said.

 

“Again?”

 

“Yes and do that thing with your face and arms again—mimicking the weird horse!”

 

Sirius thought his theatrical storytelling was weird and embarrassing but Remus had seemed to love it, especially when Sirius pretended to be different characters, even animals, and exaggerate facial expressions. If Sirius threw himself completely into the silliness of it, he could send Remus into peals of laughter, the fairy type, light and airy.

 

Every time a falling star happened, Remus had frantically grasped and squeezed Sirius hand tightly, pinching his face together as he made a wish. Sirius would try each time to say what he had wished for, only for Remus to become half-furious, claiming that wishes never came true if spoken aloud.

 

“What if I make a wish, tell you what it was, and then next time I wish that my wish comes true even though I said it out loud?”

 

Remus had given Sirius a highly unimpressed stare, though the moonlight softened it and distracted Sirius. Neither of them knew when they had fallen asleep or who first, but when they woke up, Sirius was curled around Remus’ body, tightly entrapping and protecting him from invisible threats.

 

Sirius had brought ribbons and a mirror another day, spending a few hours where Remus braided and unbraided his hair in different styles. Sirius ended up laying his head in Remus’ lap, humming as Remus’ massaged and played with his hair.

 

“Do the scratchy,” Sirius had mumbled.

 

“The what?”

 

“Scratchy,” Sirius had whined. “You know, when you run your finger through and use your nails a bit, like scraping my scalp a bit.”

 

Remus did as so, blunt nails dragging slightly as he massaged Sirius’ skull, and Sirius had responded with a very long, drawn-out happy grumble that left Remus huffing with exasperated fondness.

 

They swam in the lake, holding hands as they floated, looking up at the clouds and declaring what shape they were. Remus spurred them into a lesson about frogs after Sirius spotted a tadpole—the ugliest thing Sirius had ever seen. It looked like a small brain with a tail and he had squealed, scratching Remus in his panic to cling onto him and away from the aquatic creature. Remus had them swimming around, nearly dragging Sirius with surprising strength, searching for them in each stage while ranting about the process frogs went through. Sirius felt like they looked even creepier when they grew legs but still had the tail, but he went along on the tour, mostly because he loved watching how brightly Remus shone when he taught.

 

The week was overwhelming and fantastic and a taste of a wonderful life.

 

They didn’t speak of why they half-frantically squeezed in months worth of a relationship into mere days, it was easy to pretend they were simply eager to be together. But underneath it all, in the quietest of moments, after a sad song of a bird or waft of a chilly breeze, the unspeakable reared its ugly head in their minds.

 

They did their best to be blissfully ignorant to why their days were so desperately filled, pushing away from each heartbeat that sounded like a ticking clock.


	7. remus' tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> violence mention tw****** check the end notes for explanation 
> 
> thank you for all the comments on last chapter! this one was hard to write and all of those inspired me to keep going : )

“Oh, no you don’t!”

 

Sirius froze, his hand tightening around Grimmauld’s reigns. His shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of dark red hair. His heart still raced at the expectation that the person calling him out was a palace guard or someone his mother ordered to spy on him. Lily raised an eyebrow, walking over to block his path.

 

“I had my last meeting of the day, had training practice this morning, and had an exceedingly boring conversation with councilman Diggory,” Sirius ticked off each responsibility. “I’m going to see Remus.”

 

“No, you’re staying here and sneaking out to the orchard to see James.” Lily planted her hands on her hips. It was hard to take her seriously when she wore the ridiculous evergreen nursing hat, the pointed top and flapping side-ears.

 

Sirius shrugged. “I’ll see him tomorrow.”

 

“This is the first chance we’ve had to meet up with you since your kiss confession and we had to pull some major strings, mind you, for people to cover James’ chores so he is able to meet with you. I’m risking abandoning my nursing post to tell you and keep guard to make sure Pettigrew doesn’t see you sneaking off. Remus can wait another day, this is more important.”

 

Sirius’ heart stuttered at hearing all the sacrifices his friends were making for him right now, he knew the severity of risking disobedience under his parents’ ruling. Guilt at not being worth the trouble and fear for his friends sloshed around his insides and he felt even guiltier, shameful, for wanting to blow them off. He let go of Grimm’s reigns. 

 

He hated himself for asking, but he felt comfortable enough with Lily to know she would understand and not be offended, “How is it more important?”

 

Lily glanced around and cupped two hands around her mouth, silently mouthing _werewolf._ She dropped her hands and straightened up.

 

“You need to figure this out, Sirius. The more you wait, the harder it will be. I see how much you feel for Remus but if you truly love him, you’d be working out this hunt problem.” She didn’t bother to soothe the harshness of the statement, she never liked to sugar-coat, but she pulled him in for a loose embrace, having to press up on her toes to reach him. “I’m here for you, okay? No matter what and in whatever way.”

 

—

 

Sirius and James laid together underneath one of the apple trees. They were at the farthest end of the orchard, unseeable from castle windows, but it was hard to know which servants rubbed elbows with Sirius’ mother. Most were the best sorts of people but there was always someone here and there, a bad apple if you will, who Walburga hired to keep an eye on the lower ranks. Lying down and hidden by shade, the two boys weren’t at much of a risk of being caught by anyone.

 

Bones had been the only person to stumble across them, Sirius’ sword-training partner, and they had blinked owlishly at each other for several long moments that dragged on until a faint velvety voice called out, “Edgar?”

 

A small lady in a ratty yellow dress stepped forward hesitantly and gods knew how she made it in the Palace gates unscathed because she definitely wasn’t a castle servant. Sirius mused that a clever girl like her was a good match for Bones. Bones’ eyes were comically wide as his head swiveled back and forth between the lady and Sirius. Sirius gave a jaunty salute from the ground and Bones smiled, looking rather goofy.

 

“Thanks, mate,” he said, scampering away, grabbing hold of the girl’s hand.

 

James and Sirius allowed a stunned minute, over the strangeness of what happened and the fact Bones called Sirius _mate_ instead of _Highness._

 

James was the first to recover. “What do you think Lily would say if I proposed?”

 

“What?” Sirius lifted himself up by his elbows.

 

James raised a hand, waving it in a circle that was supposed to communicate something obvious. “Love is in the air.”

 

He glanced away from where he’d been staring intently at a ripely red apple and grinned at Sirius. Sirius rolled his eyes.

 

“Dunno, probably smack you. I think she’d say no the first time you’d ask just for the principal of it. The next time, yes.”

 

“Who says I’d ask a second time?”

 

“Who says the sky is blue?”

 

James snorted. “You sound like Remus.”

 

“You’ve never met him.”

 

“Feels like I have, you moan about him so much.”

 

Sirius lied back down, moving his elbows backward along with his forearms to clasp his hands together behind his head as a cushion. He jerked his left leg to the left, aiming a soft kick at James, who blew a raspberry at the sky in response. They fell silent. 

 

The shadows of the trees that had once been short had now grown longer as the sun crossed the sky and began to dip down during the time James and Sirius had been here together. They’d conferred intensely at length in the start, expelling idea after idea. In a way it had been fun, similar to their days as children, plotting pranks on Sirius’ ghastly cousins or mean tutors—sometimes even Regulus had joined them. Then their current ideas came out less and less, finding newness harder.

 

“Tradition says I have to slay a werewolf to become King,” Sirius spoke up.

 

“Yes,” James affirmed. “And you will have to present the dead body at a party with a shit-ton of Royals from other Kingdoms attending to confirm the slaying.”

 

“And this has been tradition for centuries.”

 

“Which means you can’t make a radical change to abolish it and Queenie Meanie won’t help you trick everyone.”

 

“Because she wants me to fail,” Sirius adds, “she wants Reg to be King. And she’d support killing werewolves for sport with no reason, anyway.”

 

“So,” James sighed, “you need to become King. To become King, you need to kill a werewolf but you won’t kill a werewolf. Other Kingdoms and your parents won’t be okay with you not doing it, which means we have to succeed in tricking everyone within slightly more time than two months.”

 

Sirius didn’t contribute any new information and James kept his mouth shut. The facts they’d laid out swam in the air before them like a heavy fog, descending upon them and mixing in with the air they breathed, tickling the back of their throats in a deadly taunting way.

 

“Well, that was helpful,” Sirius said.

 

“Depressing,” James piped up.

 

They spent a few more hours together, they needed to wait until sundown to creep back into the castle without being noticed. Bones stumbled back at one point, looking like his head was way up in the clouds, and James whistled teasingly at Bones as he passed them without acknowledgment. Seconds after, Sirius burst into sobs, quite literally exploded out of nowhere into a stream of tears. James, the most amazing best friend he was, rolled with it as if it wasn’t shocking, as if he expected it, comforting Sirius straight away. Sirius tried to hiccup out explanations but he sounded mostly like a sneezing horse. James patted his back all the same, making humming sounds as if he understood and was validating Sirius’ thoughts.

 

Eventually, he distracted Sirius by having them climb the apple tree they laid under, sitting precariously on the branches. They competed in a contest of who could eat the tiniest, barely formed apples, all green and no red, without spitting it out from the severe sourness.

 

At nightfall, they walked across the grounds, arms slugged around each other’s shoulders. They hadn’t made a sizable dent in the hunt problem but Sirius felt he had desperately needed this day. A day to fully recognize what lay before them with the help of James and to release the stress and fear of it, something he very much wished not to cry about in front of Remus. 

 

More than anything, he didn’t want any crummy type feeling to so much as come in the vicinity of Remus.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius and Remus sat in the meadow with no forest agenda because Remus was feeling tired today— _sleepy,_ as he kept insisting, _not tired._ Sirius didn’t think there was a difference between the two words but it seemed to mean Remus need not nap through the day, his body was simply sleep-like while still awake, lethargic.

 

“Because of the full?” Sirius asked, feeling like that was a big step, to actually address Remus’ life as a werewolf. “It’s in five days.”

 

“Four,” Remus corrected with a yawn. “Technically.”

 

“Technically?”

 

“In answer to your question—if the full moon is why I’m tired. There aren’t books or research on werewolves and the affect of the moon.” Remus amended, “There are but they aren’t accurate, who would have guessed?”

 

The deadpanned look he gave Sirius was laced with amusement and Sirius did his best to smile as if he shared in the hilarity. Internally, he felt furious over the prejudice and misinformation on werewolves. Going into the hunt, he had expected a large burly man that looked more animal than human, glowing yellow eyes and hairy all over. This misconception was partly why it never crossed his mind that Remus could have been the werewolf he had come searching for. That and how intelligent and humane Remus undoubtedly was—not a bloodthirsty monster, like he had been taught.

 

“Anyway,” Remus went on, “we can only guess what is and what is not. It’s pretty safe to say the tiredness is because of the full moon but I’m not always this tired before it, so who knows?”

 

Nodding, Sirius noted the new information. “It makes you more emotional, too, doesn’t it?”

 

Ears burning as he realized the bluntness of his question, Sirius felt embarrassed by Remus’ chuckles.

 

“I guess I seemed abruptly emotional the first times you’d come to the meadow around the full. I don’t know. You could be fairly emotive then, too. I’m more,” Remus paused, eyeing the sky, “reactive? Around the full, perhaps. But that could just be who I am as a person.”

 

“I like who you are as a person.”

 

Remus smiled gently. “Thank you.”

 

Considering saying that he liked Remus as a person _and_ a werewolf, Sirius scooted closer to him. He kept his thought to himself and leaned his side into Remus’, attaching them from shoulder to hip. Remus slipped his fingers through Sirius’ and raised their interlinked hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius’ wrist.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Orion woke in a rotten mood the next morning. It felt unnatural to have his father dictate his day, Walburga usually marched Sirius from chore to chore, but Orion had snapped at Sirius at breakfast, demanding to know why he wasn’t working on his hunt and instead dilly-dallying at the table. Sirius had done his best to bow his head and act reprimanded, while his heart sang its Remus tune. He hadn’t considered being able to sneak away today and now the opportunity was basically thrust upon him, without him needing a fabricated excuse!

 

Sirius arrived at the meadow on bouncing toes, humming emphatically under his breath. When he reached Remus, he pulled him in for a crushing hug, lifting him off his feet and spinning him in a circle.

 

“Woah,” Remus said as Sirius, laughing, set him down. “Someone’s egg hatched a dragon.”

 

“What?”

 

“Er, nothing, it’s a phrase from someone I met. I meant you look very happy.”

 

Recovering from his confusion, Sirius beamed. “I am! It’s amazing, brilliant, truly brilliant, Remus! Isn’t it?”

 

Sirius held both of Remus’ hands, wanting his energy to seep into his love’s, hoping to express how great this was.

 

Remus eyed Sirius with amusement. “You have to tell me first whatever this is for me to give my verdict.”

 

“Oh, I forgot that silly detail,” Sirius laughed. “My father is in a horrid mood and he yelled, basically banishing me from the castle and to work on my hunt.” When Remus didn’t immediately respond, Sirius explained, “I can spend all day with you and right before the moon! I can stay at your cabin and take care of you before and after.”

 

Remus’ hands went limp, slipping out of Sirius’ hold and falling to his sides.

 

“What did he mean,” Remus spoke slowly, “by banishing you? Aren’t you always working on the hunt?”

 

“Of course I am, I come here as often as I can, don’t I?”.

 

“No.” Remus looked at Sirius sternly. “I mean your real hunt. Unless you’re saying you’re still hunting me?”

 

Sirius didn’t think he had ever said a word so loud or quicker in his life when he shouted _no!_ His denial brought no relief to Remus, who was becoming more withdrawn and reserved, visible in every tight line of his body. Sirius barely caught the thin trace of heartbreak on his pretty face that existed only between two eye-blinks.

 

“I’d never—that’s not—I haven’t been, for months,” Sirius flailed with words. “I’m not saying I’m here to hunt you, I’m saying I’m here to help with the full moon. Don’t you want me to be here for you?”

 

Remus took a step back without appearing to be conscious of it. He shook his head, looking confused by the subject switch as well as dumbfounded by Sirius. “No, of course not. _I_ don’t even want to be there for that, let alone with someone else. I loved when you came with the cake that time but it’s—I don’t know. It’s not that I like to be alone but I don’t like who I am, so I prefer to be alone until I like who I am.”

 

Sirius’ mind struggled to fit around Remus’ reasoning and the rapidly-turning turbulent atmosphere. His heart stung sharply from Remus recoiling at the idea of Sirius being there for him. “You don’t have to be alone, though,” he desperately said, feeling that if he could get the wording right, Remus would understand him. “I lo—I want to be there for you in every state. Let me be there for you.”

 

“It’s dangerous, you can’t be anywhere near here during the night of the moon.” Remus ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m not upset about that, I am, but it’s the other issue.”

 

Sirius fought the urge to dig his palms into his eyes. His head spun the smallest amount. “What issue?”

 

“The hunt. Haven’t you been working on it? I thought,” Remus took a breath, “I thought you were looking for another werewolf.”

 

The air around them stilled, the wind holding its breath, or at least that was how Sirius imagined it.

 

“You think I’m going to kill a person?”

 

Remus’ shoulders were curving inwards but he seemed less hurt and more regretful of his own words. Sitting down, he said, “I thought that’s why you never speak of the hunt.”

 

Sirius took his time sitting down and adjusting to how he wanted to sit, his legs folded and crossed, fidgeting into a comfortable patch of the grass, while he processed their conversation and the many harsh pains of this miscommunication.

 

“I don’t speak of it because I don’t even want to think of it. I can’t kill someone and I can’t figure out what to do. James and I have been trying to come up with a way around it.”

 

Remus remained quiet. And then, “It’s been almost eleven months.”

 

“Yes,” Sirius confirmed lamely. He hoped to not have the same conversation he and James had had days before, stating the whole situation piece by depressing piece.

 

That familiar little wrinkle formed between Remus’ eyebrows and Sirius wished to lean forward and smooth it away. “Why are you spending time with me, then? You need to work this out.” From the corner of Sirius’ eye, he saw Remus’ fist clench. “You need to stop seeing me.”

 

“Firstly, I spend time with you because I want to and I want to because it’s you.” Sirius reached out and wiped the wrinkle away, pushing his thumb slightly into Remus’ skin, and smoothing it in a matter he hoped was reassuring and loving. Remus let out a shuttering breath as Sirius pulled back. “Secondly, I will not stop seeing you and I will figure it out.”

 

Remus wouldn’t look at Sirius, he hadn’t for much of the conversation, his gaze trained on a patch of red wildflowers. “How?”

 

“Maybe you can help.”

 

Now Remus looked at him, his expression condescending but it lifted Sirius’ spirits for it wasn’t with malice, it was Remus crawling back out of his mind. “Do you think I know every detail about a hunt created specifically to kill me? That I’d want to?” 

 

Sirius knew the answer without thinking. “Positively.” 

 

Remus scrunched his nose. “That word sounds so clunky.” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Fine,” Remus sighed. “Yes, yes, you’re right. I have the first five pages of the doctrine memorized and can paraphrase the rest.”

 

Sirius hadn’t even been aware that there was a written set of rules for the hunt and he felt idiotic for not thinking of that. The tradition was common knowledge, everyone knew it, there wasn’t a need to read about it. Looking through the wording, there had to be a hole somewhere, some way they could get around it. Sirius’ energy from earlier was reborn, bubbles of hope rising. Having Remus to help would do wonders—his cleverness invaluable. He had a unique way of seeing the world in an upside-downish way in which no one else could see.

 

“I see what you’re thinking,” Remus said, interrupting Sirius’ thoughts. He placed a comforting hand on Sirius’ knee. “There’s no chance of finding a loophole. The tradition is thorough in every aspect. To make matters better, a man helped re-write it to be even more complex two years ago.”

 

“I hate him.”

 

“You know him?”

 

“No,” Sirius’ voice didn’t lose its venomous quality, though it became a touch child-like, “but I do know now that I hate him.”

 

Remus ducked his head, a pleased foolish grin not well-hidden.

 

“What if we run away—we can take James and Lily with us,” Sirius offered. “We can start fresh, you and me, leave all of this behind.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“We could see Alice and Frank.” The more he thought about it, the better it sounded. Why hadn’t he realized this was the solution in the first place? “You’ve been everywhere, you can find somewhere we won’t be found! We can build a new cabin and make a huge garden.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“We’ll find you new bee friends and a library—all the books you could ever want! Lily and James can find better jobs, escape the terror of my mother. We could be together, there has to be somewhere that doesn’t care about people like us being together.” Sirius vibrated from the visions of this magical imagined life. “We can find a new forest and new flowers, and a lake of course, and it would brilliant and no responsibilities and I would protect you from anyone and everyone.”

 

“Sirius,” Remus said, his quiet voice more jarring than if he shouted. “No. We can’t.”

 

“Yes, we can.” Sirius grabbed Remus’ hands, holding them tightly. “We can, Remus. You just have to _see._ ”

 

“You know why I haven’t kissed you since the first time?”

 

“It doesn’t—I don’t care about that.” Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t need to kiss you to be with you.”

 

“No, it’s,” Remus grabbed a fistful of his blond hair and yanked at it. He’d told Sirius that sometimes he became quite frustrated with himself and at times he felt his skin would melt off from the sheer rage of it. That sometimes it felt impossible to communicate through words, as if his body forgot he was not an animal who solely communicated through body language and pheromones but needed legitimate words strung into sentences.

 

Sirius waited with as much patience as he could, stopping himself from giving physical comfort and allowing Remus to work through how to speak his feelings.

 

“This has been over since it started.”

 

The matter-of-fact statement sucker-punched Sirius. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sirius’ spitting anger flipped into an anguished demand, “Has this meant nothing to you?”

 

“You’re a prince!” Remus pressed his hands into the ground hard, pushing himself to stand up. “I’m a commoner, a _man_ —I’m a fucking werewolf, Sirius. A werewolf. Why the fuck don’t you get that?”

 

Sirius clambered to his feet, scoffing in incredulity. “I do understand—you’re the one who’s not listening and understanding! I’m literally asking you to let me be there for you during the full moon. Why can’t you understand that I don’t give one giant fuck that you transform into a wolf once a month?”

 

“That—that right there,” Remus said, pointing a finger at Sirius, “that’s why I can’t. You’re wonderful,” Remus said in a way that made wonderful sound both good and horrendously awful, like a dangerous weapon. “And this has been a slice of everything that should be but that’s what it is, a _should_ be, not a reality. I can’t let you closer. I can’t go through that. I can’t kiss you when I know there’s a limit to it.”

 

Everything clicked together and Sirius deflated with the understanding of it. He reached out and Remus flinched, stepping back twice. 

 

“Remus—”

 

“No, you don’t get it. You have a life to go back to and I don’t,” Remus snapped. “I will actually have to leave here and be on my own, thinking about you every day with nothing to distract myself but loneliness and no purpose to living beside secrecy. I _want_ to kiss you, I _want_ you to be here for me but that just means there’s more that will be gone and missing when this is over.” Remus wiped his wet eyes angrily. “I hate that we met, I wish it never happened.”

 

“No,” Sirius said gently, stepping forward. “You don’t.”

 

“I do—I hate you!” Remus sobbed.

 

Sirius took a step closer and cradled Remus’ face with both hands, swiping his thumbs to wipe away his tears. “No, you don’t,” he repeated.

 

Sirius kissed him softly, slowly, ready to stop if Remus was unresponsive or pushed him away. Remus grabbed the front of Sirius’ shirt and pulled him impossibly close, their teeth knocking together with the force he put into a bruising kiss, their noses smashing together. Sirius reacted in equal vigor, it was so easy, so tempting to kiss like this, desperation taken out physically so they could feel that the other person was real, grasping hands at clothes and skin, teeth nipping lips a touch too hard. Sirius fought Remus for control, nearly letting himself be distracted by how amazing that felt—tongues pushing at each other and trying to capture Remus’ bottom lip between his teeth first. As much as he wanted to give into the kiss, like it begged him too, to fall apart into the heat of it, Sirius stayed focused on making Remus slow down and allow Sirius to lead.

 

Sirius switched them into an unhurried pacing. Remus tried to keep the speed up but Sirius wouldn’t let him. He sucked Remus’ lower lip in, sucking gently and refusing to let go. Remus’ body was flush against his and Sirius could feel his erratic heartbeat slow. The hands that had wound behind Sirius’ back slackened from their tight grip in a fistful of Sirius’ shirt. He released Remus’ lip, scraping his teeth lightly along it as he let go and receded to close-lipped kissing, paying more attention to his hands, running them over Remus’ body, never staying in one place too long. He pushed one hand through Remus’ hair, kept pushing it over the back of his head until he could cradle the warm nape of Remus’ neck, idly playing with the soft blond hair there. His other hand skimmed up and down Remus’ arm, in comforting strokes before quickly delving underneath his shirt with little finesse. He paid careful attention to Remus, if that had gone a step too far, but Remus gasped slightly, his fingers retightening in Sirius’ shirt, pushing up on his toes to press harder into Sirius. 

 

Sirius used the small gasp to slip his tongue back into Remus’ mouth. His one hand under the shirt merely stayed at Remus’ side, running up and down over the skin, the slight bumps of Remus’ ribs and raised scars. He wished for it to be more graceful, to be more seductive and reverent—he wanted to explore every inch of Remus’ body, _gods_ he did, but right now he only wanted this to be tender in every sense and so he kept his touch innocent and reassuring. Remus _loved_ it, and Sirius hadn’t intended to get this stirring reaction, he had to actively work on not smirking because Remus hardly responded at all other than his fingers clutching and unclutching the fistful of Sirius’ shirt. He was less kissing and more breathing hotly into Sirius’ mouth, mouth slack and forgetting to move in the rhythm Sirius’ lips set.

 

Bit by bit Remus came back to himself, mostly from Sirius’ nudges, every time Sirius dragged Remus’ lower lip in and sucked sweetly on it, he’d be shocked back into responding. They kissed languidly but thoroughly, every movement purposeful. Remus removed his hands from Sirius’ back and cupped Sirius face, his thumbs dragging across his cheeks in slow strokes. He took over, licking his way into Sirius’ mouth, and the change of control was nice, really nice, and this was something Sirius could get used to, definitely get used to, being kissed by Remus and now there was no thinking, just doing and enjoying and falling apart from just kissing.

 

After who knows how long, Remus sucked Sirius’ tongue into his mouth and Sirius made a shocked sound at the strangeness of it, how it felt like his tongue could be pulled out from his mouth and into Remus’. Remus made a muffled sound that sounded like laughing and kept the tongue captive, refusing to let go until he had to in order to laugh. 

 

They pulled back and Remus’ face was bright with amusement. His hair stuck up in places and his lips were a swollen red, especially his lower lip. Dazedly, Sirius thought _I did that._ Remus’ green eyes scanned Sirius’ face and Sirius wondered if he was thinking the same. The amusement slipped away into something gentler, loving. He leaned forward and Sirius met him to press their foreheads together, Remus’ forehead sliding down a bit as he fell back down from his tiptoes. Sirius removed his hand under Remus’ shirt and his other that had made its way from Remus’ neck to the very low of Remus’ back at some point. He cupped Remus’ cheeks, Remus doing the same with Sirius’. They didn’t say anything, closed their eyes and breathed quietly.

 

After some time, Remus spoke hoarsely, “Come here, I have something to show you.”

 

The trek to Remus’ cabin was silent. He led them to his garden and sat down in the food plant patch, next to the green leafy ones, patting the spot next to him for Sirius. Taking Sirius’ hand as soon as he sat down, he used his other to point at different plants. He spoke in a murmur, his whole demeanor vastly different from earlier. He never let go of Sirius’ hand as he talked about specific plant’s healing properties. 

 

“They’re mainly from Alice,” he said while pulling out a weed and fiddling with it. “A few I picked up along the road from people I met or overheard talking about. They don’t fix everything or do magic but they help with my injuries. I am very grateful to have them, but for the first fifteen years of my life, I knew none of this. I managed well, for the most part, my body heals itself at a faster pace than a normal person.”

 

Remus took many pauses as he spoke, sometimes the silence stretching to the point that Sirius thought he was supposed to say something.

 

“For a time, I lived in a bad place. It was stupid of me but I was young and foolish. The kingdom was dark—is dark and full of questionable, dangerous things. It sounded like a haven to me at the time,” Remus laughed lightly. “I had never stayed in one place for long and I was so tired.” His expression darkened. “So tired. I thought this was perfect, I could settle here and be unbothered. Nobody questioned others; everyone did something illegal.”

 

Sirius tightened his grip on Remus’ hand. He couldn’t see why Remus would ever want to be near there.

 

“It sounded safe. And it was. Nobody gave a second glance to the suspicious presence of a skinny boy who lived all alone, so young, and in the forest without fear of wild animals. 

 

“But it was freezing there and barely anything for me to scavenge. I decided to nick a morsel, something small and harmless, from a home. I’ve done it from time to time, like with the bees, always careful and cautious. This time, I wasn’t lucky—caught, roughed up a bit but I escaped. I promised myself I’d be smarter next time and I should have left the land immediately but I didn’t want to uproot again. In the middle of the night, they found me. 

 

“Five men,” Remus whispered. “Five men. They broke nearly every bone in my body, cut me with blades so deep I thought I’d bleed out, and…” Remus shrugged. Paused. “They kept yelling at me, insulting me as they did, saying how people like me deserved this and worse and I thought they knew I was a werewolf, but no, it was because I was poor.

 

“I lived,” Remus didn’t elaborate. “Dragged myself far away. I swore to never enter the territory of a dark kingdom again, of anyone aligned with them. But,” he sighed, “times changed, people gained power, and bandits scavenge forests and woods—picking on those alone. They try to recruit them to their side or beat them to death. I wasn’t safe and so I…came here. Perhaps stupid and foolish, but they wouldn’t go looking here, they wouldn’t expect to find me in a dark kingdom.”

 

Sirius trembled violently from Remus’ tale—how hurt and wounded he had been. Nausea and the need for violent revenge battled inside him. “Marvolo’s Kingdom.”

 

Remus nodded, though Sirius already knew yes was the answer. “We can’t run away, Sirius.” He looked up at Sirius at last, his gaze probing. “You can’t. We can’t let them succeed—they’ll massacre hundreds, perhaps whole Kingdoms. War is coming and you know it. James would be one of the first to go, I was surprised to learn your parents allowed him in the castle. The only thing Marvolo hates more than the poor is those of dark skin. He sees brown as synonymous with poor, and therefore savage and scum.

 

“We need you, love. You won’t be alone, you have James and Lily and soon, others.”

 

Sirius closed his eyes in an effort to gain composure. _But do you need me personally, outside of war?_ He wanted to ask. _I will have Lily and James, but will I have you?_

 

“I have no idea what to do,” He whispered, opening his eyes. “How do I fool everyone?”

 

Remus smiled, a soothing balm to all Sirius’ hurting. “Tomorrow, is there a possibility you can sneak James and Lily out of the castle?”

 

“I might. It would be tricky, but I might be able. Why?”

 

“There’s someone I’d like you all to meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: so, when Remus starts talking about stealing food at the end of the chapter when he's sitting in the garden, he talks about being attacked. it's brief and basically says he was beaten to a pulp. be safe!
> 
> hmm, I wonder who made the werewolf doctrine more complicated two years ago?? it has no relevance to the rest of this besides a silly one shot I wrote that takes place after this story
> 
> *slyly slides in a casual moment of touch-starved!remus...*


	8. minerva and the sleepy, self-sacrificing, selfish werewolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only a few chapters left-- between 2 to 3

Sirius feared Remus was going to fall.

 

He had managed to sneak Lily and James out but only at night after they were relieved of their working hours. He had fretted the entire way to Remus, his stomach in terrible twists over having made Remus wait all day for them to come. Then there was the added leftover guilt about their arguing yesterday. James, mostly likely with the hope of distracting and cheering Sirius up, spent the journey rambling about how excited he was to finally meet Remus and how they were going to be the best of pals.

 

Remus awaited them in the meadow, assuring them he hadn’t been there all day, he’d heard their horses and came running to meet up. James took the explanation easily, not knowing how far into the forest Remus’ home was. Lily, who’d been to it the time she checked on him for Sirius, had a flash of understanding on her face but not surprise. Sirius, on the other hand, struggled to contain his shock—he hadn’t known Remus had supernatural hearing not in werewolf form. 

 

“Fantastic to finally meet you,” James said, having jumped off his horse to reach Remus before Sirius. “Huge fan of your work, that riddle was a masterpiece.”

 

“The pleasure is mine,” Remus replied neutrally, shaking James’ hand.

 

Sirius shoved James out of the way and pulled Remus in for a brief hug, sensing he didn’t feel comfortable with James among them simply because they’d never met. For this reason, he didn’t say anything when he released Remus from his arms. He mustn’t have done a good job at hiding his unease because Remus murmured, “It’s alright.”

 

Sirius snorted softly but swallowed his objection. The dark purple circles underneath Remus’ eyes were just begging Sirius to march the beautiful but scrawny ass back to bed for a (preferably) hot cup of tea and snooze. Sirius’ eyes flickered to the moon above them and it dug its way into his mind, heavy with its fullness. _Two days._

 

Now the four rode together in silence to the village within the Black Kingdom Remus announced as their destination. Lily rode on Petunia, the mare who appeared content with Lily for now but, from past experience, they all knew she could flip without warning and was more prone to do so with Lily than any other. James dared to sneak out of the Palace on Hollows, the equally prized stallion brother of Grimm. Hollows had been more accepting of Remus, though Petunia kept clear of the blond man. Like Grimm when he had first met Remus, the two horses both reared and tensed warily at his presence.

 

Grimm was less bothered, no cues of discomfort at having to carry Remus along with Sirius. Sirius himself was very much bothered, Remus’ arms became looser around Sirius’ waist as they rode, as if he was falling asleep. Only Remus’ occasional hand raise to point directions soothed him slightly.

 

“This is it,” Remus said and yes, his voice was indeed breathy and sleepy. Sirius was infinitely happy to help him off of Grimm.

 

Tying their horses’ reigns to the post outside the house in front of them, Sirius noted whoever they were about to meet must be visited often if they had a post for horses while not having one of their own. 

 

“This will be strange.” James, Lily, and Sirius startled at Remus’ voice. “All I ask is you keep an open mind.”

 

The three exchanged a glance, unsure what to think of a werewolf warning them of strangeness. Lacing his fingers with Remus’ and receiving a comforting squeeze, Sirius let himself be lead with his friends to the back door of the house. It was cobblestone home and a modest size, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to give a hint to what existed within, except for the wooden door with a faint carving of a cat’s face. Remus used his unoccupied hand to knock six times with varying lengths of pauses in-between each one. There was the sound of a scuffle and then the door was opened to reveal a tall older woman wearing square glasses.

 

Unmovable was the first word that sprung to Sirius’ mind. She wore an aura of quiet power with steadfast sharpness. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun and somehow her emerald dress came across as rebellious and not a conformity to the Kingdom’s colors.

 

“Lupin,” she said, a trace of shock in her voice, mixed with the tilt of some foreign accent.

 

It took half of a second for Sirius to realize she meant Remus and he wondered if it was a nickname or his last name, followed by his realization that he didn’t know Remus’ last name. He remembered when Remus refused to share his name for Sirius was “too smart”— _Remus Lupin_ _,_ a rather unfortunate or humorous name for a werewolf trying to hide its lycanthropy, depending on how you looked at it.

 

“I apologize for the time of night,” Remus said. “Unfortunately, this cannot wait.”

 

The woman’s gaze slid to the three others, her expression reminiscent to how the horses reacted to Remus, wary and distrustful. Nonetheless she stepped aside, allowing them inside her home. She closed the door and did its three locks swiftly before turning to Remus.

 

“This is Lily, a nursemaid at the Palace, and her boyfriend James, a jack-of-all-trades servant.” She gave each a firm handshake. “And this,” Remus said, looking at Sirius, “is my beau, Sirius.”

 

Swallowing thickly, Sirius blinked several times. The woman didn’t hold her hand out immediately as she had done for Lily and James, her eyes focused on his and Remus’ still clasped hands. Her gaze raised and she studied Sirius’ face before bowing her head, a recognition of his status, though not with the respect of a curtsy. Lifting her head, she faced Remus and a primal wave to protect washed over Sirius, a strong urge to push Remus behind him and bare his teeth. He tried to shake the strong feeling off but he didn’t like the way this woman gazed harshly at Remus.

 

“Minerva,” Remus said lowly, under his breath.

 

Minerva beckoned them to follow her further into the home, into a dining area with a rectangular table that sat six people.

 

“Sit,” she said. To Remus, she titled her head to an open doorway on their right.

 

Remus gave Sirius’ hand a last squeeze before letting go and following her.

 

The three sat at the table a tad uncomfortable, not knowing if they were allowed to talk amongst themselves while they waited. Funnily, they felt like school children waiting for their teacher to give them permission to speak.

 

“Ahem.”

 

Sirius tapped his fingers anxiously against his thigh, to the speed of his racing thoughts. 

 

“ _Ahem.”_

 

Finally gaining Sirius’ attention, Lily pointedly looked at Sirius and then at the doorway leading to wherever Remus and Minerva disappeared through. She had the best vantage point to see and Sirius had to lean forward, his stomach pressing into the table, as he sneaked a look.

 

The doorway led to a small kitchen and Sirius balked at the sight of Minerva hugging Remus near a stove. Not a loose hug either—a tight, familiar type of hug, a cross between a concerned friend and worried mother. He watched as Minerva pulled back and stared at Remus. He could only see Remus’ back but he got the impression the two were speaking with their eyes, having some strange telepathic conversation. Her rigid behavior had melted away and as much as Sirius wished to stare on, he settled back in his seat in respect for Minerva’s privacy. 

 

He nodded his head once to Lily, in thanks, his nerves significantly more settled. James caught his eyes and mouthed _beau_ with a gleeful expression and Sirius’ stomach flipped and flopped at the reminder. The endearment snuggled its way into Sirius’ heart, a warm presence.

 

The two returned to the table and Minerva took the seat at the head, the end closest to Lily. Remus walked to Sirius’ side of the table and pushed his chair closer to Sirius’ before sitting down, much to Sirius’ relief and smug delight.

 

“This is Minerva,” Remus said, “and she does magic.”

 

Lily was the first to break the ensuing silence. “Pardon?”

 

Minerva waved her hand in James’ direction and his black coat turned orange.

 

“Wicked!” James’ head swiveled between looking at his coat and Minerva, as if he couldn’t decide which was more worthy of his admirable gaze.

 

Lily reached and tentatively touched the coat, checking to see if it made her hand orange, as if it was paint—it did not. The corner of Minerva’s lips twitched, eerily similar, Sirius thought, to Remus when he was mildly pleased or amused. She waved her hand and the coat returned to its original black, much to James’ apparent disappointment. 

 

“I am adept in a particular branch of magic. No, it is not a trick and no, it is not a skill that can be learned.”

 

“You can alter appearances?” Lily asked.

 

“As well as form.” Minerva moved her hand again, this time in a more complicated manner with her fingers, and the goblet in front of her became a large spider with spindly legs.

 

Sirius, Lily, and James all made a strangled shrieking sound and Minerva undid the magic, the goblet reappearing. This time, the amusement on her face was less hidden and Sirius could see this too she shared with Remus, a smug-like pleasure in shocking others. Remus snickered, his arm brushing against Sirius’. The way they revealed the secret—magic!—was presented straight-forward and fast seemed to keep the three from freaking out though no doubt it would hit them all later— _magic._

 

“Now, I presume you are here on account of the hunt. I have an idea of what I can do to help but first, I would like to hear the problem in detail.”

 

Sirius cleared his throat and began to explain, clarifying that under no circumstances did he want to harm another. Minerva listened attentively and Sirius prided himself in not wavering in the slightest, he channeled the years of practice he had in council meetings. Ever so often she looked to Remus and Sirius wished he could as well—he was glad to have him by his side but he wondered if it would have been better for Remus to sit across from him in James’ place, so they could see each other’s faces easily.

 

When Sirius came to an end, Minerva sighed deeply. 

 

“The best and only offer I can think of,” clear regret in her voice, “is to transfigure Remus into his wolf form. It would last at least twelve hours, enough time for the party, before the magic would wear off.” She looked to Remus. “It would be you as a wolf, with your mind, not the werewolf’s. You would have to play a convincing act of being dead, I cannot magic you into seeming so.”

 

James and Lily said no at the same moment as Sirius. They all had mirrored expressions of nauseous horror.

 

“It’s too risky,” James explained.

 

“I’ve heard of people mutilating the corpse at parties,” Lily said, “as a game.”

 

“You can’t change a goblet or a rock into a wolf? It would only be Remus you could do?” Sirius chose to ask, too calm. He felt almost detached from the situation, not being able to grasp the reality. 

 

Minerva nodded solemnly. “This is a great deal of magic to be asking, complicated and intricate. I could use other objects but it wouldn’t work as well and I fear the magic could falter and break.” 

 

Sirius blurted out, “What about James?”

 

“Hey!”

 

Sirius stuck his tongue out and received a hard kick, jostling the table. Remus aggressively cleared his throat and side-eyed Minerva. Both James and Sirius shrank under her disapproving gaze—not even their mothers’ reprimands were as successful as her frown.

 

“Sorry, ma’am,” they chorused.

 

“Ignore the two buffoons.” Lily smiled sweetly and took Minerva’s hand in her own. “Thank you so much for agreeing to see us, it must have been a risky decision. We appreciate everything you have to offer, even simple advice.”

 

Lily released her hand and Minerva nodded her head with a small smile. “Anything I can offer Remus is a blessing for myself. I have had the pleasure of knowing him since he was a child. I am humbled he included me in this planning.”

 

A swell of appreciation blossomed in Sirius’ chest. Remus’ eyes were wide and his lips twitched in a struggle to grin. He cleared his throat softly, a sign Sirius knew meant he was too choked up to speak, making Sirius choked up as well. Minerva—a goddamn Saint.

 

They resumed tossing out ideas, whatever they be, no matter how impractical. The topic of if they should kill a wolf and pretend it was a werewolf came up. James shot that down fast, ranting about how wolves were as important as humans and no unnecessary killing should be made. Minerva looked impressed, Lily’s face split in an adoring smile, and Remus made the little cough again. James suggested they find a merchant who traded dead animals stuffed and preserved, surely they must have a wolf among lion rugs. Minerva waved a dismissing hand and that was that. Lily presented the idea to go along with Minerva magic-ing Remus into a wolf, with her and James monitoring to make sure nobody brings harm, and at some point in the evening they sneak Remus off and declare the “werewolf” as being stolen by a thief.

 

“No,” Sirius pressed his fingernails into his palms painfully, “I won’t allow it. No. I won’t risk it. No.”

 

Remus hooked an ankle around Sirius’ and gave it a playful tug. His foot soothingly trailed up and down Sirius’ calf.

 

“Remus,” Minerva said. She didn’t elaborate further.

 

Remus unhooked his foot and straightened up. “Well.” He pinched his forehead. He separated his thumb and pointer finger to smooth their respective eyebrows and rejoined them together after crossing his cheeks to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighed and released. “There are holes and bits are lacking but I feel this is the best we’ve got.”

 

He clasped his hands on top of the table. “I’ve come across wolf packs, yes? Yes. They are curious about me during full moons. They know I’m not exactly a wolf but they don’t what I am. Some are accepting and embrace me, others, more often, are territorial and can become…aggressive.” Remus threw Sirius an _it’s alright_ smile. “It’s why I like it here—there are none, meaning no complications.

 

“A few years ago, I stumbled across a passive pack. I was, um, injured the night I shifted and they found me—” Sirius thought to yesterday, was this after Marvolo’s Kingdom? His heart constricted and Remus went on— “no hackles raised due to my non-threatening state. There were few males and they didn’t care. The females were far more interested, there were several pups around and they sort of,” Remus searched for the word, “adopted me, as if I was their own. They recognized me even in human form and still loved me. 

 

“It was good for the wolf inside me,” Remus explained, “being part of a pack sedated him. It was almost as if they made him docile enough that my personality came through. Usually, I have no control during transformations. If I ever became aggressive, they seemed to understand and their toughest would overpower me to set my wolf back in rank. Besides the times I lived with Minerva, it was the happiest I’d ever been growing up. They felt like family, as silly as it may sound.” Remus stared somewhere not here nor there.

 

“And then,” Remus continued, tone more sour, “ _he_ arrived. He was large, about twice as big as the others, and more than twice as cruel. I thought he was a werewolf at first and I pitied him, in the out of control aggression I assumed he’d be ashamed of in the morning. But he was not—I saw him multiple times in daylight in all stage of the moon as wolf. 

 

“He loathed me. He knew there was something wrong with me and he felt the need to make me know it. My family—uh, my old pack, tried to protect me but they stood no chance. He hurt them as well, especially the females and cubs. I refused to leave them behind, I wouldn’t abandon them to this monster. But, the second moon with him…he attacked me after I stood in between him and one of the mothers.” Sirius’ heart beat wildly, both sick and furious for revenge. “It…to put it simple and straight, I was hurt. The other wolves kept pushing me with their noses, communicating for me to leave but I wouldn’t, I _couldn’t._

 

“I passed out and when I awoke, they were…gone. I don’t know how they convinced him to leave or where they traveled to, but my pack sacrificed themselves for me. I couldn’t track them, I had been out for days and woke up in a bed. No hope for tracking their scent. This is when I met my two friends, Alice and Frank, actually. They stumbled across me and kindly took me into their home.”

 

Remus breathed deeply. The four others at the table were in various states of distress, though Minerva seemed familiar with the story. Sirius could hardly keep still, he needed to scream and smash things, hold Remus and cry, find the wolf and murder him. 

 

“I’m sorry to purge that on you but it is essential to my plan,” Remus apologized and became straightforward, one clipped sentence after another. “I respect Sirius’ abhorrence to Minerva’s and Lily’s plans. I will not allow a wolf to be killed before me. James is correct—no _unnecessary_ killing or cruelty. Now, I’m not sure this bad wolf is still alive but I have a feeling in my bones he is. I think our best chance is for me to hunt my old pack down and kill him. It’s the only kill I’ll ever allow. Only I will do this and I will do it alone, as wolf under the full moon. He’s abnormally large and scarred, no one will doubt he’s a werewolf if Sirius presents him.”

 

Lily, James, and Sirius objected instantly but Minerva cut through them like a knife. 

 

“How do you plan to find them?”

 

Remus looked directly at her as if the others weren’t there. He cracked a smile. “You know the answer, as unfavorable it may be.”

 

“I cannot believe you are speaking of this in my own home.”

 

“Minnie, Sybil isn’t that awful.” Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Alright, awful but tolerable.”

 

“To some extents, under a strict time limit, and preferably with moss shoved in one’s ears.”

 

“I’ll be the one seeing her, you won’t have any contact.”

 

“Still.” Minerva looked as if dung was under her nose.

 

Remus made an agreeing hum. “She can be successful sometimes and it’s the best shot I have.”

 

“Oh, alright. How will you overpower the bad wolf?”

 

“In wolf form and I’ll spy on him a few days beforehand to get a sense of his weakness.”

 

“Do you believe you can win?”

 

A pause. “Yes.”

 

Minerva stared at Remus and then nodded, satisfied with whatever she found.

 

“How will you bring the body back?”

 

Remus nibbled his lip, considering. “I’ll need help. I could letter Alice and Frank. None of these three can risk that amount of time away from the castle.”

 

“How may I assist?”

 

“Sirius will need scars to make it believable. Could you make that happen? No pain and temporary is fine, we’ll figure out what to do after the evening.”

 

Minerva nodded at once. They stared at each other long enough that the three others were bursting with clueless anticipation. Minerva and Remus nodded at each other and then turned to face the others, blinking at their gaping expressions.

 

“What?”

 

Sirius needed a long bubble bath after this. Fuck it all, he was going to use his special emergency bubble mix. His heart dropped, burning a hole in his feet and then the floor and into the earth, crossing into another dimension, when Remus cleared his throat, face solemn.

 

Remus’ steady and calm tone only made Sirius more panicked. “Minnie knows—” Minerva scoffed “—a woman named Sybil. She’s…a seer.” Sirius and his two friends exchanged confused glances. “She’s a bit like a fortune-teller, if that helps. She generally makes prophecies unprompted and randomly but I believe she could discover where my old wolf pack lives.”

 

“Why doesn’t Minerva like her,” Lily asked.

 

“I don’t agree with that type of magic. She’s not one of the best and can make mistakes. Please, I do not intend to alarm you, I trust Remus’ intuition with her abilities.”

 

“Alright,” James said, laying his hands palms down on the table. “What you’re saying is Minerva will tell Remus where this Sybil person is, Remus will visit and she will tell him where the wolf pack is. Remus will have lettered Alice and Frank to be accompanied on the journey, Remus will spy and observe the bad wolf for a few days and on the full moon will attack and defeat him. Remus’ friends will care for his wounds after the moon and help transport the dead wolf. Minerva will use her magic to give Sirius scars to make the story believable and he’ll present the wolf at the banquet. Yes?”

 

Remus took Sirius’ hand before answering yes. Sirius’ breaths started coming out harshly and Remus continued to squeeze softly and rhythmically, imitating a heart beat. It grounded Sirius enough to keep him from flipping the table.

 

“Alright. Okay.” James took his glasses off to thoroughly rub his face. He placed them back on, crooked. “It’s an overwhelming amount of information. There are so many risks and danger.” He sighed and ruffled his hair. “We have two full moons left. I think we can afford some time to think this over.”

 

A slip of relief washed down Sirius’ spine. They could think it over, convince Remus there was a better plan. This one was awful, there was too much risk of losing Remus, Sirius couldn’t do that. He couldn’t. Remus could die by bandits on his journeys, the bad wolf could overpower him—there were a million possibilities. Frankly, Sirius didn’t trust Frank with Remus’ safety. He didn’t even trust _James_ with Remus’ safety. He only trusted himself, _he_ needed to be the one by Remus’ side.

 

“Unfortunately,” Minerva said, “you will have a few days at most before we must act. We will need a week, maybe more to prepare. Sybil is a week’s journey away. She’ll take a few days at least to ‘use her inner eye’. By this time, the moon will be near. Remus will travel a few days to the Longbottoms, who live close by and undergo the transformation. He’ll need to rest at least a week to conserve all his energy if he’s going to fight. We have no idea where the wolf pack may be—I estimate a fortnight to get there and to track them down. That leaves Remus one week to study the pack.” Minerva looked each person in the eye. “This is time sensitive.”

 

There was a pause and the room seemed to freeze, stagnant. Sirius thought he heard Remus say his name.

 

He had knocked over his chair and was backing away. He didn’t remember doing so and everything was becoming hazy, his vision spinning. _Remus alone, Remus without him, Remus being attacked, Remus’ human body after being attacked, mauled and bloody and unrecognizable oh gods oh gods—_

 

Sirius fled the house.

-

Remus found him minutes later, vomiting a bit of the way down the road. He didn’t say anything, his hands gently gathering Sirius’ hair away from his face and tying it together with a ribbon. Sirius vaguely wondered when Remus started carrying ribbons on his person as he dry-heaved. Remus made a shushing sound as he rubbed Sirius’ back, a cooing noise rather than a sound created to say _shut up_.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius croaked, wiping his mouth before bracing his hands on his knees. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Do you feel a bit better?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Remus sat down on the deserted dirt road and tugged on Sirius’ pant leg until he sat beside him. They eyed the pile of vomit but made no move to move farther away. Remus tucked a strand of Sirius’ hair, that had escaped the ribbon, behind his ear and Sirius leaned into the touch.

 

“Speak to me, love.”

 

“You shouldn’t touch me, I’m all puke-y.”

 

Remus shrugged. “Doesn’t change much, you’re naturally disgusting.”

 

Sirius hated Remus for using his sarcasm to make him smile but loved him for it, too. Remus nudged his big toe against Sirius’ boot and smiled smally.

 

Taking in a trembling breath, Sirius asked, “You don’t mind if I hug you then?”

 

Remus muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _dimwit_ before pushing his way ungracefully into Sirius’ arms, half-climbing into his lap. Sirius pulled him in the rest of the way, scooping him in his arms and holding him close. Remus wound his arms around Sirius’ neck and tucked his head under Sirius’ chin. That primal urge he felt from early resurfaced, rumbling with satisfaction.

 

“There’s this thing,” Sirius whispered, “deep in me that wants to lock you somewhere safe and hurt anyone that even looks at you.”

 

Remus nuzzled into Sirius’ neck, expelling a puff of air in a half-snort.

 

“Is that silly?”

 

“No,” Remus said. “Well, yes, you are silly. But that’s not.” 

 

In the distance, crickets chirped in a song.

 

“I’m ridiculous,” Remus admitted. “I want to write across your head ‘ _Property of Remus Lupin’._ ”

 

Sirius tightened his arms, goosebumps rising across his flesh. “Please do. I want nothing more.”

 

“No, it’s selfish. You’re protective of me and I am, too, but there’s something inside me,” Remus whispered forlornly, “that’s very possessive.”

 

“Being protective is selfish, too,” Sirius argued, “it’s what I want, not what you want. I don’t know about you, but locking someone away sounds rather selfish to me.”

 

Remus hummed. They listened to the crickets. “I guess that’s the nature of wanting this.”

 

“This?”

 

Remus tightened his arms around Sirius’ neck, pressing himself closer into Sirius. Sirius blinked wetly and felt the emotions from earlier and yesterday and the past weeks prickle. He pretended to be blind to it, focusing on the weight of his _beau_ in his arms and distracting himself by trying to place the emotion of the crickets’ song. Not sad exactly but certainly not joyful. Maybe melancholic. Nostalgic?

 

“Is nostalgic an emotion?” Sirius asked. “Remus?”

 

The exhales of air that ghosted across Sirius’ skin were even and rhythmic. “Remus,” he repeated, quietly, shaking him the slightest amount.

 

Remus made no sign of being awake and Sirius rolled his eyes to no one. He smiled and tilted his head, pressing his cheek to soft blond hair and taking deep breaths, as if each inhale stole this moment, sucking it in, and saved it inside a bottle. After minutes of thinking of the least rousing way to do so, Sirius carefully got to his feet, all the while keeping Remus scooped in his arms, and succeeding in not waking him. He adjusted his arms more securely and allowed himself a moment to stare down at Remus’ face, bathed in the moonlight. Sirius could see his eyes moving back and forth underneath his eyelids and he desperately wished his dreams to be sweet as chocolate. 

 

He murmured out loud, “How can I protect you?”


	9. please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * tw for violence -- check end notes if that's a problem for you : )
> 
> * okay so if there's a dash between paragraphs that means hours have passed but it's during the same day, including late into the night. But if there's that big line in-between paragraphs that means a day or several have passed
> 
> *I have been /horrendously/ sick and I'm mostly better now but I've been feverish the past few days and this chapter definitely was impacted by it so be prepared for oddness + this went waaaaay too long and should have covered more but we'll shove that into the next chap. tbh I'm posting it now bc I want to chuck it into the void
> 
> * ¯\\_( :/ )_/¯

“Will you tell him,” Sirius scrunched his eyes closed and released an exhale. “Tell him, I’ll check on him tomorrow. At his house. Please?”

 

He opened his eyes and he wished he understood Minerva. He couldn’t get a read on her—if she was curious about, unimpressed by, or despised him. Similar to how he felt with Remus initially, they both kept their thoughts well guarded. He was beginning to sense her protectiveness over Remus, and to Sirius, that was all that truly mattered.

 

“He’ll spend the day here and I’ll accompany him to the forest tomorrow night.”

 

Sirius bit his lip and ducked his head, nodding. Remus had told him he didn’t want him there for the moon, anyway, and Sirius only wanted to see Remus for him to confirm he hadn’t changed his mind. It might be best for Remus to have a day with Minerva and catch up. Sirius didn’t quite like it but he knew better than to push this woman. Ha, he—a soon-to-be King, humbled by a commoner. A commoner who could do _magic._ Who was a mentor to his werewolf beau.

 

It had been less than a year and Sirius’ world couldn’t be any more different than it was his whole life.

 

Minerva titled her head, studying Sirius and he resisted the urge to squirm.

 

“Have a biscuit.”

 

“Er.” He blinked. “What?”

 

“A biscuit,” she said, “for your journey.”

 

Sirius opened and closed his mouth. From here to the castle it was a little over an hour ride and dawn was approaching, there was no need to stop for a snack nor the hunger for one. Minerva disappeared without a word and returned almost instantly with biscuits wrapped in napkins.

 

“Uh, thank you for your kind offer but I think we will be okay.”

 

Minerva extended her arm, holding them out almost challengingly. Sirius looked at the biscuits as if he had never seen such a food in his life, completely baffled and he looked to James, who widened his eyes in a look that communicated _mate, take the fucking biscuits._

 

Sirius took them. “Thank you.”

 

“You are welcome.” Was that the hint of a smile? “I wish you a safe journey.”

 

Lily led the two boys out of the house, waving goodbye, and Sirius spared a glance at the closed door of the guest room, where he had tucked Remus in. They all leaned against the cobblestone home after they were outside and the door shut.

 

“Magic,” Lily exhaled more than said.

 

Sirius and James nodded their heads dumbly in agreement.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius didn’t like the plan. He really, really, really did not like the plan. How could everyone be agreeing to this? Lily and James pretended to talk through the risks and advantages of Remus’ plan but Sirius could see they had already made up their minds. Sirius simply couldn’t wrap his head around it—it made no sense. It was practically a death sentence. 

 

And Remus didn’t owe this Kingdom anything. He wasn’t born here and if it weren’t for Sirius, he had no attachments to this land. It wasn’t his place nor responsibility to put his life on the line. This hunt was supposed to be Sirius’ duty, a Prince’s rite of passage. He should be the one sacrificing his life and yet here he was, letting his love do the work for him. 

 

It made no sense. It wasn’t _fair._

 

He refused to push this self-pitying bullshit onto Remus. Sirius needed to be the one to doing the comforting, he needed to be the one with the calm and reassuring voice. If Remus made his mind up, there was no changing it. And the best Sirius could do was to support him, which he vowed to do. Sirius tried to hide his internal battle but his mother was nothing if not sharp and she zeroed in on his vulnerability. He sensed her satisfaction, knowing she believed he was cracking under the pressure of the hunt. 

 

If only she knew.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Remus had said he didn’t want Sirius there during the moon process but Sirius was just as stubborn and so he showed up the day after the full, with chocolate pastries. Again, Remus laid in a bundle under quilts. Sirius was much more prepared this time, more composed.

 

“Hey Remus,” he called out softly, getting ready to climb into bed.

 

All he received was a grunt in response. “’M tired.”

 

“I know love, go back to sleep. I’m right here.”

 

“No,” Remus whined. “My blankies.”

 

Sirius laughed softly while lifting the quilts anyway and pulling it back to reveal Remus’ head. “I don’t want you to suffocate.”

 

Remus mumbled something that sounded like a combination of curses but he scooched over and snuggled into Sirius’ side before falling back asleep. Sirius pushed a hand through Remus’ damp hair and thought about how he should have grabbed a cold, wet rag to drape across Remus’ hot forehead. He didn’t dare leave now, not with Remus tucked against him. Sweating was good, though, right? For fevers? Doesn’t it sweat out toxins and help you recover faster? Except, Remus wasn’t exactly sick with a common fever.

 

Fuck, Sirius was so far out of his depth. There was so much he didn’t know, that he needed to learn. And he didn’t have the time to. Sometimes he got so caught up in it all, in the unfairness of how they had to fight for the possibility of a relationship. As much as they adored each other, they knew little of each other’s histories. They didn’t have the luxury to. For them to even have the possibility of a chance together, they needed to fight for it.

 

When Remus awoke next, he took several minutes of grumbling and grunting before he eventually cracked one eye, his right one, open. He stared at Sirius.

 

“You’re here.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“I told you not to come.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Piece of shit.”

 

“Yep.”

 

Remus closed his right eye. “Read to me? Make me tea?”

 

“Oh, so now I’m your servant?”

 

Remus’ right side of the lip turned up. “My lovely servant.”

 

Sirius began to move and Remus’ arms quickly shot out, winding around Sirius’ nearest thigh. “No, stay.”

 

“Your lovely servant needs to grab a book and start a fire.”

 

Remus squeezed Sirius’ thigh and let out a low-pitched wail. “Unfair. Want you here.”

 

“I know.” Sirius wiped sweat off Remus’ forehead. “I know.”

 

“I want chocolate.”

 

Sirius laughed. “Yeah, I know that too.”

 

“Good. I knew there were some brains in you somewhere.”

 

—

 

Two months, starting now. Minerva said they needed a week to prepare but Sirius knew he could cut that down to four days. Time—this was all he could give Remus, more time on his journey. Who knew, perhaps three days could make a crucial difference. The first problem became quickly apparent. The journey to Sybill’s would be a week, at least, and Remus had neither means of transport nor non-perishable food. 

 

James appeared in the middle of the night after Sirius reluctantly left Remus, jumping on top of Sirius while he was sleeping, nearly throwing him into a heart attack. 

 

“Wow, never heard that swear before, did Remus come up with it? Brilliant. I’ve got, it’s amazing.”

 

Sirius grabbed the matchbox at his bedside and lit a candle. James’ face loomed before him and Sirius finally got a good look at him, he was covered head to toe in soot. From experience, he knew it was better not to ask if James didn’t offer up an explanation.

 

“This is shitty, complete and utter shit,” James went on, trying to sober up but failing in his excitement. “I mean, really, this whole wolf-killing expedition is—”

 

“Yes, yes, I quite understand the shittiness, thank you.”

 

James grimaced. “Right, sorry. Insensitive. Back to what I was saying, I’ve figured out the perfect distraction.”

 

Sirius blinked, waiting. James bounced on his knees slightly. “Well?”

 

“We’re back! Pranking, mischief! All the good things!”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

James set a hand on each of Sirius’ shoulders, gazing intently into his eyes. “Remus needs a horse and resources and stuff and we need to make that happen. He only deserves the best of the best, which means—”

 

“Supplies from the castle,” Sirius finished slowly.

 

A wicked smiled stretched across James’ face. “Which means we have work to do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“He’s crazy!”

 

“But he’s _fast._ ”

 

“A fact that doesn’t matter, seeing as he’s completely insane and directionless.”

 

Lily pointed a finger at Sirius as she backed away. “If anyone can calm and guide a wild animal, it’s Remus.”

 

She turned and jogged down the corridor, opening up the door to the servant’s—creepily narrow and cramped—stairs, returning to the infirmary. Puffing out a breath of air, Sirius leaned against the stone wall. _Horace._ What a strange name for an even stranger horse. Where he came from and why he remained among the Black’s horses, Sirius had no clue. Sirius had promised he could succeed in four days. Three days left. There wasn’t any time to spare, no moment to go scampering off to the meadow and Sirius tried his best to not let that eat away at him.

 

_Horace._

 

Sirius shook his head. A lunatic idea. Thinking it over, he knew she was right. He was by far the fastest of their horses and if he wasn’t so difficult, he’d be in high demand among the higher ranking knights. Horses and animals found discomfort in Remus’ presence but he had the ability to sway them with time, fairly quickly, and in a way humans couldn’t. He rolled his eyes when asked if he could communicate, talk, with animals but it sure seemed like it. Something inside Remus seemed to call to nature and nature called right on back.

 

Okay, hypothetically, Horace could be a good match. Speed meant quickening journeys, which meant giving Remus more time. And Horace would be the easiest horse to steal with little fuss, it might even be considered a blessing.

 

“Fucking Horace,” Sirius muttered, leaning his head back to thunk against the wall. 

 

—

 

 

The next hurdle was how exactly to get Horace. When filling James in on the choice of horse, he simply grinned and said great. That was one of the best things about having James Potter as your best friend, nothing shocked him and he took everything in stride, ready before he even knew what to be ready for.

 

James yawned and rubbed his eyes, wiped out. 

 

Against his better judgement, Sirius asked what his mother had him doing all day. “She’s overworking you, isn’t she?”

 

James shrugged his shoulders tensely. “I think she’s catching onto us spending time together.”

 

“She has no proof!”

 

James shrugged again, yawning wider. It reminded Sirius of Remus yawning and that connected to his memory of the night they slept under the stars, leading to Sirius remembering his story-telling.

 

“I’ve got it,” he whispered. “I’ve got it! Shit, I’m going to need an alibi. Fuck, you might need one too, actually.”

 

“Oo,” James cooed, his half-lidded eyes brightening. “Wormtail bait?”

 

“I told you, it’s the _rat_ or nothing!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After little planning, they got into action—two days left. James was most displeased with how they were going to sneak food out of the kitchens for Remus, they had intended to use Lily lightly flirting her way through acquiring a basketful of food. As much as Lily tried to reassure him nothing would happen, Sirius cracked and said they could ask Mary to help. It was a damn risky move to include another person but James had been going above and beyond for Sirius, it was the least Sirius could do for his best friend. Lily trusted Mary and Sirius trusted Lily with his life.

 

But Sirius trusted no one with Remus’ life and so he broke down into tears in front of Mary, which led to awkward back-patting.

 

“Sincerely, Prince Sirius,” she said, “I don’t mind—those kitchen buffoons are fun to toy with anyway. And,” she gave a cheeky smile, “I am always game for a bit of mischief and secret-keeping. I swear my lips will be sealed.”

 

He quickly wiped his nose and eyed the clock, snapping into battle mode—time for phase one. “Right, great. Thank you so much, Mary, honestly you’re a lifesaver.”

 

Sirius sprinted down to the breakfast dining room, skidding to a halt. It was an hour earlier than he ate his own breakfast, which meant Regulus would be here any minute, followed by their father seconds later. Always on time, day after day. 

 

He paced in front of the dark chestnut table, waving off the staff that offered him food. A too familiar face popped through the doorway, a nearly identical replica of Sirius. Regulus, however, was infuriating taller by the tiniest bit and his nose turned up more at the end than Sirius’ did, his eyes slightly farther apart and a touch bluer than Sirius’ grey. They were small features that no one else noticed but Sirius had spent time searching for all the ways in which they were different during these past two years. He wondered, not for the first time, if Regulus did the same.

 

“Sirius,” the name feel off his brother’s lips and he flinched a minuscule amount, no doubt not intending to say anything.

 

The usual anger that flared within Sirius over Regulus since their fall out wasn’t there. Strangely, he felt unperturbed. He sensed some of the servants watching them while pretending they weren’t and Sirius thought, _time for the big show._ He needed to give them something to gossip about, to make this even more scandalous.

 

“Hi, baby brother.” Sirius smirked and all tension left his body, cockiness oozing from him. He heard the faint footsteps of his father descending the stairs and he counted in his head. “Sorry for this.”

 

Regulus’ eyes widened a fraction, realizing too late that Sirius’ fist was making its way for his face. Sirius punched him hard, straight to the nose, right as Orion stepped through the doorway. The most deafening silence followed and Sirius took the moment to appreciate what happened, focusing on how enraptured Remus would be when Sirius tells him this story.

 

Then Regulus swore loudly—which was another amazing thing on its own—and violent, hurtful chaos ensued.

 

—

 

Sirius hissed as Lily cleaned the welts on his back.

 

“We’re almost done, Siri,” Lily said gently, using his old childhood nickname. “You are doing great.”

 

Her voice wobbled on the last word and Sirius put effort into teasing her, holding in a yelp from the stinging, “Are you crying, Evans?”

 

“Yes, I fucking am, you asshole.” Sirius chuckled and she laughed wetly. “Stop it, this isn’t funny.”

 

The pressure on his back lessened and he listened as she presumably set down the rag.

 

“Phase two,” Sirius said in an attempt to keep their minds on track. Move past the horrendous but needed phase one.

 

“Let’s hope James made sure to be extra dramatic for Peter to catch on.”

 

“And let’s hope he set up phase three.”

 

Lily set a hand on top of Sirius’ head in an affectionate gesture. Having someone other than Remus touch his hair made him want to squirm but he appreciated the meaning behind it.

 

“I’ll sneak out now,” she whispered. “You’ll be able to tell it’s me in the farmer’s uniform?”

 

He nodded his head and she hesitated for a moment but said nothing more, sneaking out of the room. Sirius would have liked to pray to gods he didn’t believe in for her to not be seen by anybody and for nobody to come check if she was in here with him but as soon as he was alone he fell to his knees and bit his fist to muffle his pained cry.

 

—

 

Sirius had never known one day he’d be thankful that his window faced the stables. The last time all the horses were set free and the castle was led on a wild goose chase to rein them back in, nobody knew who was at fault or how it happened. Sirius’ mother had, of course, blamed Sirius for it and it didn’t help that he was on the scene, laughing heartily as a careless seventeen-year-old boy. He wasn’t the only one, it was quite a hilarious scene.

 

The problem was, for a wild horse escape to happen today, Sirius needed a tight alibi to prove there was no way for him to be responsible. Thus the Regulus accident, resulting in Sirius locked in his room with Lily caring for his injuries. Later, she’d sneak back in and be able to swear to his mother that he had never left, making it impossible for him to be at fault. Despite dating James, Walburga trusted Lily immensely. Perhaps the castle still believed Lily loathed him, they still bickered with fervor. 

 

Walburga believed that nobody in this castle was loyal to Sirius and would go against her—except James. Therefore James required a cover story as well, proving he couldn’t have been the one to have freed the horses either. 

 

This was phase two—James acting suspiciously in a glaringly obvious way in the vicinity of the _rat._ Once he knew he had Peter’s attention, he’d sneak up the servant stairs up toward Sirius’ room. Luckily, Peter was predictable. Although Sirius was royalty, Peter had always idolized James growing up, entranced by everything he did and wanting nothing more than to be his friend. Every time he ratted James and Sirius out, he spun the story to be Sirius’ fault, always saving James from punishment, or the brunt of it at least.

 

But before James could start phase two, which should be happening right now, he should have prepped for stage three, sneaking into the stables and unlocking all the doors, allowing the horses to easily break out if they wanted. Once Sirius caught sight of Lily sneaking out into the fields and into the woodsy area nearby, Sirius would open his window and toss a rock at Horace’s stable. He’d practiced his aim all last night and James had supplied him with more than enough rocks. Horace would be spooked, as he was highly sensitive, sending him into one of his crazy episodes, which in turn would freak the other horses out and boom—they’d escape.

 

The end of phase three, Sirius wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Lily promised she’d be able to find Horace and calm him down, find a place to tie him up where no one would find him and all the while never being seen by anyone. Again, Sirius trusted Lily. This task was the most daunting, however, and Sirius tried to think very little about it. If Lily failed, this would all be for naught.

 

Phase four, Mary collecting food, could be done at any part of the day and that wasn’t much of a thought to bother about.

 

Suddenly, a distinctive nasally voice rang out from nearby Sirius’ room, followed by the rich voice of James. Sirius couldn’t hear what they were saying but phase two was very much in action and phase three needed to quicken its pace. Sirius’ eyes searched the grounds through the window, he counted inside his head to keep himself calm and to rationalize that time wasn’t passing by fast, and he spotted Lily. She wasn’t far enough into the fields but this would have to do. Unlatching his window, Sirius pushed it open slowly, being mindful of squeaking. He checked to make sure no one was looking. 

 

He chucked a rock.

 

—

 

Lily burst through Sirius’ bedroom door. Perhaps bursting wasn’t the correct word, she slid in quietly and closed the door just as softly, but to James and Sirius, it felt sudden and startling.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“What are _you_ doing here?”

 

Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m the one who is supposed to be here.”

 

James opened his mouth to retort but Sirius beat him to it, “How did you get back so fast? Did it work?”

 

Lily eyed James, obviously wanting to follow up on their questioning, before she said, “Oh, yes.”

 

Sirius and James gaped.

 

Lily half rolled her eyes this time. “Do you two have any faith in me? I found Horace—he really does run fast and none of the other Palace people were anywhere nearby and I convinced him to follow me to Mary’s brother’s home. He’s really kind and raised an eyebrow but didn’t mind keeping Horace behind the house and said if anyone came by, he’d say he recognized Horace as belonging to the Palace because of Mary and he was planning on bringing him in when he had the time.”

 

James narrowed his eyes. “How do you know Mary’s brother?”

 

“It won’t matter, I don’t think,” she ignored James, “I heard a guard saying they’d be lucky if they ‘lost’ Horace. As for how quickly I returned—magic,” Lily winked. “And the fact I had several carrots and knew the secret castle passageways you and James discovered.”

 

Sirius sat back down on the stool by the wash bin, dumbfounded. He hardly paid attention to James explain to Lily he’d been banished from the castle by the Queen for the night and how that was perfect—he could find Mary and bring Horace and the food to Remus tonight. Like her, he used the secret passageways to sneak into this room and explain the situation to Sirius. 

 

“Are you going to explain the story to Remus?”

 

Sirius looked up to see James’ response. He laughed lightly. “I don’t know if I can explain this. I don’t even know if _I_ understand what happened.”

 

“This was insane,” Lily agreed. She blinked and repeated, “This was insane. Oh my gods, this was _insane._ ”

 

A euphoric feeling washed over all of them. And some hysteria.

 

Sirius whispered, “How the hell did we do this?”

 

James grinned. “I don’t know about you two but I feel much better. If we could somehow pull off this shit storm, Remus can succeed in his mission. Some crazy god must be taking pity upon us.”

 

—

 

When James snuck out of Sirius’ room, Sirius pulled him aside and asked him quietly, “You won’t tell Remus about my back?”

 

James bit his lip, teeth visibly sinking into his lip hard. He nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

 

—

 

Walburga stormed into Sirius’ room and froze in shock at seeing Lily un-bandaging Sirius’ injuries to check on them.

 

“Has Sirius left this room?”

 

Lily stood up to curtsey low and then furrowed her eyebrows, her faked confusion scarily convincing. “No, he has not, my Queen. I have been with him this whole time, my Queen.”

 

Walburga left the room. Sirius knew she’d interrogate Lily later but he knew there was nothing his mother could prove.

 

—

 

It was announced that night Horace caused the horse debacle. No one was at fault. 

 

Sirius was secretly sentenced to not being seen by anyone for a week, relieved of all duties. Lily promised to help him escape his room early the next morning. She couldn’t risk accompanying him to the meadow and she lectured him on how he shouldn’t be riding with those wounds, but much like Sirius with Remus, she knew there was no stopping him and the best she could is to help in ways she could.

 

—

 

Sirius hummed, instinctively pushing his head into the hand brushing through his hair. His back ached a considerably less amount than he expected it to, normally he wished to fall back asleep when he awoke after punishments, to sleep through the pain. Instead, he wanted to be more awake, feeling comfortable and safe. Maybe a crazy god was pitying them. The hand changed from petting his head to slightly scratching it and Sirius sucked in a breath, realizing that one, Lily would not wake him up by petting his head and two, only one person scratched Sirius like that.

 

“Shh, calm down.” Sirius was pushed into the mattress, he had been sleeping stomach down to avoid irritating his wounds, from someone’s hands carefully holding his shoulders. “I’ll let you go but you need to stay lying down. Turn your head to the left.”

 

The hands pulled back and Sirius turned his head. The curtains were drawn shut on his window and it was still night time. He could only see a silhouette.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh, you know, I thought it would be nice to do some sight-seeing,” came the dry response. “I’m here to see my idiot.”

 

“Remus,” Sirius hissed, “you can’t be here.”

 

“How’s your back doing?”

 

“It’s—fine. Remus, you could get caught.”

 

“I thought about lighting a candle but I suppose someone might see it and come check on you.”

 

“Remus.”

 

“I came back on Hollows, though I do like Grimm better, I believe.”

 

_“Remus!”_

 

“You might want to be quiet if you’re so concerned about me being caught.”

 

Sirius sighed. He watched the shadowy figure of Remus’ hand rise and felt fingers brush through his hair again.

 

“I had to see you,” Remus murmured. “I’m not stupid, of course I knew you would be punished for punching your brother, which is a story I want to hear and your reasoning behind that. James was being rather shifty about you, and I,” Sirius heard him swallow, “I had to see you.”

 

Sirius made a wounded sound at Remus’ distress. “I’m okay, love.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me.”

 

Sirius didn’t know what to say. Remus continued to play with Sirius’ hair, pushing it away from his face. Sirius tried moving his arm to grab Remus’ hand but doing so while lying on his stomach proved to be difficult.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“I’m trying to hold your stupid hand.”

 

“What—oh. Here.” Remus removed his hand and then placed his palm on the back of Sirius’ hand, his thumb stroking. “Is this what it’s like after the full?”

 

“What, feeling completely helpless?” Sirius barely made out Remus nodding in the dark. “Yeah.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

Sirius laughed weakly. “You’d rather be the one the hurt?”

 

“Yes, you idiot. I can’t believe you did all of that. I don’t think I can talk about it right now, I’m so upset.”

 

“You can do reckless and life-threatening things,” Sirius’s voice came out a touch snappish, “but I can’t?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Anger simmered in Sirius’ belly but he clenched his teeth until he calmed. “Can you light a candle? No one will see and if they do, they’ll think I’m going to the bathroom.” He waited as Remus’ hand left his, then heard it hit several things as Remus tried to find the match and candle. Sirius had to shut his eyes, wincing when it was lit. He waited a few seconds before opening them. “Are you crying?”

 

“No!” Remus wiped his eyes with his forearm, eyes watering back up immediately.

 

The sight of Remus in his room was both confusing and satisfying. He looked comically out of place but Sirius liked having Remus with him. Remus sniffled unattractively.

 

“Hey, hey, don’t look at them,” Sirius murmured but Remus’ eyes refused to leave Sirius back. “Don’t look at it, I’m okay. I’m safe. That’s right, love, just look at my face. See?”

 

Remus croaked a laugh at Sirius’ goofy smile. “You’re so stupid.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you thought you could ride your horse three hours to the meadow.”

 

Sirius decided not to say he’d have been fine, he was used to moving through life with far worse pain than this. “If I agree to not ask and lecture you about coming here, you’ll agree to not ask about my stupid plan?”

 

“I need to apply a new batch onto your back.”

 

Sirius didn’t catch onto Remus’ purposeful ignorance and then when he did, he didn’t understand what he was talking about. Remus said he could sit up slowly and Sirius did. He looked down to see an assortment of jars surrounding Remus with varying goos or leaves trapped in them. 

 

“So that’s why my back hardly hurts.” Remus nodded and Sirius absolutely loved the pleased and proud smile on his face. “Is that honey? I suppose that makes sense, you said it would help with my bee stings.”

 

Sirius equally loved Remus’ proud smile that was directed at Sirius. He preened _that’s right, I’m incredibly intelligent._ He was—he was a fast learner, but he never had the chance to show Remus because his only education was in politics and such. The tenderness in how Remus cared for him, smoothing balm onto his back, was just as delicately handled as Lily and yet so much more different.

 

It dawned on Sirius that today was it. This was their goodbye; day four. He must have made some sound or the way in which he held his body must have changed because Remus made an agreeing and reassuring noise in response. 

 

“We can run away.”

 

Remus’ hands stilled on his back. “Maybe we should agree not to talk about this subject either.”

 

“Pretend as if I’m seeing you tomorrow?”

 

Remus hummed at Sirius’ question. “Yes.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

“I don’t think there’s anything or any way to like any of this.” Remus sat back on his heels, entering Sirius’ vision. The candlelight flickered on one side of his face. “Do you have somewhere I can wash my hands?”

 

He showed his hands, sticky with ointment, and Sirius pointed to the connected bathroom of his suite. When Remus returned, freshly clean, they chatted quietly and lost track of time after he joked, “So, this castle, huh? Lively and cheerful.” From Sirius’ explanation of how they’d had this castle for centuries, they eventually somehow ended up on Minerva. They steered clear of Minerva being connected to Remus leaving, instead focusing on Remus’ childhood, but it was clear that they had discussed Remus’ journey strategically. It calmed Sirius, Minerva no doubt had helpful advice and based on what Sirius knew, she wouldn’t let Remus go into something she believed he could not return from. At one point, Remus pressed the lightest of kisses along Sirius’ bruised knuckles.

 

“This is going to be odd, but would you like me to give you my shirt?”

 

Sirius snorted. “What?”

 

“Don’t be rude!” Remus grinned. He was sitting on the bed and looked down, fiddling with his hands. “I thought, maybe, you’d like to have it because it smells like me? I mean, it would mostly smell like sweat, which is gross but it’s still me. I don’t know, sorry this is weird. I just. Smells are comforting to me? I’m. Okay. I’m going to shut up now.”

 

Sirius hardly ever heard Remus flounder with words and he was never going forget this, ever. A bubble of warmth swelled inside of him. “No, I think that’s a great idea. I can smell it when I’m worried about you?”

 

Remus lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug.

 

“I’d like that. Very much.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Remus glanced up and looked away, his cheeks pinking. He pulled off his shirt and Sirius insisted he take one of his own for the ride back. It wouldn’t smell like him, his servants washed everything immediately, but he could take a sweater to keep him from being cold. 

 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Do I look stupid or something?”

 

Remus stood before him in one of Sirius’ sweaters, a light black one, and it was a bit too big, the sleeves going over his hands. Sirius’ initials, _S.O.B.,_ were stitched in dark green on the top left corner of the front side.

 

Sirius felt like he was going to fucking _die._

 

Remus watched him as he stood up, but he didn’t protest at Sirius moving, and Sirius crossed the distance between them in a few steps. He didn’t pull Remus into his arms, knowing that he couldn’t be hugged back because of his welts, but he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Remus’. Their breaths intermingled and that weirdly satisfied Sirius, though breathing in Remus’ exhaled air didn’t feel that great for his lungs. Remus closed his eyes and Sirius looked down at them, the small veins that he thought were pretty. Who knew veins could be pretty? He supposed Remus made everything pretty.

 

Sirius moved his head, dropping it onto Remus’ shoulder. “Please,” he whispered before he knew his mouth was even open. “Please, please, please.”

 

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was pleading for but he felt it tumble out of him, like the waterfall described in one of Alice’s books. Remus moved his hand through Sirius’ hair, going underneath and to the nape of his neck, up a bit higher to massage the bottom of Sirius’ skull. Sirius kept pleading.

 

Remus only spoke once. “I will, love.”

 

After a while, he spoke again, “Lily’s coming,” and sure enough a few minutes later she slipped into Sirius’ room.

 

“Remus!” She clamped a hand over her mouth.

 

Remus kissed the top of Sirius’ head and let go, stepping back. “Surprise?”

 

Lily lowered her voice and reprimanded Remus and though she couldn’t tell, Sirius knew Remus was touched. Listening as Remus pointed Lily to different jars and explained what helped with what and how long to wait for in-between bandaging, Sirius spent the time taking him in, memorizing everything. The sky was lightening, casting a soft blue hue through the curtains and he focused on Remus’ mouth, the flash of white from his peeking overbite.

 

—

 

Lily turned her back to give them privacy for their goodbye. She had wished Remus luck, made a step forward to hug him but sensed him tensing and stepped back. She smiled and made him promise to be safe.

 

“Why so blue? I’m seeing you tomorrow, remember?” Remus asked, referencing their earlier discussion in which they would pretend.

 

Sirius gave the most pathetic attempt of a smile. “I’ll bring chocolate.”

 

“You better.”

 

“You’ll be waiting for me,” Sirius swallowed, “in the meadow?”

 

Remus leaned forward, pressing his lips to the corner of Sirius’ mouth for eleven lingering seconds. He said something into Sirius’ skin. It sounded like _darling._

 

Sirius told Lily they were ready, they both assumed Lily would sneak Remus out, and they watched with wide eyes as Remus opened Sirius’ window, winked at them as he hefted himself over, and disappeared. There was a stunned second and then they raced to the window—they were at the highest point of the tower.

 

Remus was nowhere in sight, not even on the grounds that stretched for miles.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And then the waiting began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tw: after Sirius punches Reg in the nose, it's implied that Sirius was whipped and has welts on his back. The wounds are not described in graphic detail or any detail (whoops), there are just references to people cleaning and putting ointment on it. Be safe!
> 
> *why Horace?? I came up with the idea after I hadn't sleep in 48 hours but my logic was/is I like dropping in HP character names especially with the horses. But because they are a part of the Black Kingdom I don't want to give it names of morally good people like Luna or Godric or something. I thought of Slughorn and how he is a Slytherin and kind of iffy but overall is on the good side which my brain thought was brilliant = having a crazy horse that belongs to the Blacks has the potential to be v bad but then helps Remus on his journey


	10. waiting and waiting and waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling motivated today so I'm going to try and work on the next chapter as much as I can as an apology for the cliffhanger : ) 
> 
> you'll probably never wanted to read the word 'waiting' again after this

Sirius’ plan to give Remus more time had sounded fantastic but now, Sirius wasn't so sure. He barely had any idea of Remus’ plan, his only knowledge was his fuzzy memory of the night at Minerva’s. Did Remus letter Alice and Frank? They couldn’t have replied that fast, which means Remus is banking on them receiving the letter and being ready for him with no confirmation. Could he get in any sort of contact with Remus? Any letter sent to the castle would be a disastrous idea and Sirius couldn’t send one because he wouldn’t have an idea of where to send it to.

 

He knew these next two months were going to be difficult but it was even more dreadful than he anticipated. He’d gone two months without seeing Remus in the past but that was before, when that was normal. Being entirely too used to seeing Remus on a whim and often, Sirius felt rather like pouting in a corner.

 

Having to spend all day every day in his room for the next week didn’t help at all, it gave him too much time to think with too little to distract. James couldn’t even pop in during the night for a bit of fun. Sirius’ mother now had guards outside Sirius’ door. He felt himself dip into a moody sadness, spending his days curled under blankets and clutching Remus’ smelly shirt—a fucking blessing that kept a fire lit inside him. It wouldn’t last long, the faint smell of dirt and acidic sweat faded slowly but surely. If Sirius clung to it tightly, there was a tiny trace of the red flowers in the meadow—poppies, Remus had said.

 

The only solution was to visit Minerva, she’d know more details and Remus surely stopped at her house before leaving. James had some information himself, having spent that night at Remus’ when Walburga temporarily banished him from the castle. Not only was it impossible to find a moment with James, Sirius wouldn’t seek him out even if he could—it was too dangerous, if they were caught James wouldn't get away with a simple punishment like last time. Lily came in the first few days of Sirius’ locked-up week but she couldn’t say anything for fear of the guards hearing. At least she was able to sneak Remus’ jars into the room and use them for Sirius’ back, by now he felt incredibly better. 

 

How to visit Minerva was a riddle in itself, complex as the one Remus gave him originally. Sirius, James, and Lily had succeeded in gaining Walburga’s attention on how Sirius was misbehaving and causing mischief—creating havoc in the castle. This kept her away from being suspicious about Sirius’ mysterious behavior in relation to the hunt. Her eyes were all on him and refused to leave, completely distracted from what could be going on outside of him, and Sirius intended to keep it that way. Let her be convinced he wanted to sabotage the castle and not that he was hiding a secret hunt plan. 

 

As essential and helpful as this achievement was, it meant Sirius’ actions were limited. Sneaking to Minerva would be a damn risky move and he’d have to be far cleverer than he usually would be. If anybody saw him and caught him, everything had a good chance of crumbling.

 

Sirius paced in his room, huffing angrily every now and then and tugging harshly at his hair. He wished to punch the wall, as he used to do when he was younger. One could see old blood stains on the wall if his bureau was pushed to the left. He missed James, he missed Lily, he missed being in the meadow. Never before had he yearned for the outdoors and he used to feel more inclined to stay indoors, as he had his whole life. Now his skin itched for clean air and the calm quiet of the meadow instead of the tense silence of the castle. 

 

Most of all, he missed Remus.

 

_Fuck_ , he really missed Remus.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius’ first day back as a Prince turned out more depressing than expected. A flash of irritation made its way through his heavy moody feelings. His cousin’s husband, a Lord, sat in on a council meeting (a surprise visit to Sirius) and Walburga told Sirius firmly beforehand to not speak unless spoken to. He had to suffer through listening to a plan in which his cousins and father will visit a Kingdom aligned with Marvolo, for reasons unexplained. _How convenient_ , Sirius muttered in his mind, as he listened to his mother say,

 

“Oh, and Prince Sirius unfortunately,” she sighed, “will not be able to come along. His hunt is close and this journey will be too time-consuming for him.”

 

Across the table, his cousin’s husband made a pouty face, a blatant communication of _oh, poor wee Sirius, how sad._ In the past, Sirius would have kicked him under the table, tripped him in the hallway, even snuck bugs into his bed. Like the past two to three years of reforming, Sirius smiled sweetly, though he made sure to be as cloying as possible.

 

“Perhaps,” one of the councilmen, Sir Parkinson, mused, “Prince Regulus may come in substitution.”

 

Oh, how that made Sirius’ mother’s eyes glisten like the rubies on her rings.

 

Sirius couldn’t handle more stress but he couldn’t prevent this new situation—Marvolo and the Kingdoms aligned with him were progressing fast into war. Bonds strengthening, strategies developing. 

 

The urge to punch a wall became much stronger.

 

—

 

That night, Sirius’ door opened to reveal Lily. Stupid tears collected in his eyes but fear swirled with his relief.

 

“What are you doing here,” he whispered, “we’ll—you can get in serious trouble!”

 

“I am here to assure—” Sirius shot her an odd look, she was speaking overtly loud in the direction of the door “—that your wounds have not become infected.”

 

Lily raised a finger to her lips with a severe look in her eyes. She moved to where he had shot out of his bed, near the window. 

 

“Follow along,” Lily barely moved her lips to speak, far better at talking softly than Sirius.

 

“What?”

 

Lily sighed instead of her usual eye roll. She turned toward the door.

 

She returned to loudness. “Oh, dear. They are secreting pus. We must go to the infirmary at once.”

 

Following behind her after she beckoned him, an icy cold sensation slid from his head to toes, an almost nauseous feeling doused in anxiety. Lily swayed the guards in the hallway easily, gaining their approval for Sirius be taken to the infirmary. Sirius tried to whisper questions and demands but Lily remained firmly in secrecy. By the time they arrived at their destination, he had worked himself into a dizzy. Due to the lateness in the evening, this part of the ward was abandoned and dark. The constantly working sickrooms were up and running, through a window he saw a nurse treating a little servant boy.

 

Lily pulled him into the room reserved for royalty—royal blood couldn’t mix with commoners and servants, of course—and pulled the drapes over the windows.

 

“Will anyone be able to hear us?”

 

“Uh,” Lily should know this more than him, “yes, though we should talk in hushed tones.”

 

“Good,” Lily said, “I suggest you cover your mouth and do your best to hold in your alarm.”

 

The moment Sirius covered his mouth, Minerva stood where Lily had been in the blink of an eye. His hand muffled his scream.

 

He dropped his hand. “Is—wha—Lily gone—you—huh?”

 

“Yes, it is me, Minerva. We do not have much time so I suggest you push your confusion away for later. I found Lily first and she agreed to hide until I leave. If we are careful, no one will suspect something is happening.”

 

“Yeah, oh—okay.”

 

Minerva sat down in one of the two plush chairs and rubbed her temples.

 

“Are you feeling alright?”

 

She frowned. “It is tough magic, transforming completely into a new person. The most I do is change a certain aspect or two of a person’s appearance. To change completely draws much of my energy.”

 

“If it is that draining, why did you come? Why are you here? Is, is Remus hurt?”

 

“If Remus is how he left me, he should be fine. I thought you might benefit from an outside source, to be more informed and reassured.”

 

Stupid tears formed in Sirius’ eyes again and he reprimanded himself for being emotional, his mood swings were tiring. He ducked his head and swallowed, blinking his tears away, and wondered why Minerva would do this for _him._

 

He lifted his head. “Thank you. Truly, thank you.”

 

Minerva’s lips tilted upwards slightly, the wrinkles on her face softening. He sat down in the chair beside her.

 

They spoke for long, their conversation serious and efficient, far more productive than any meeting Sirius had attended. Minerva explained she provided Remus with food, too, and how he had more than enough—Mary had nicked Peter’s food reward as well as the kitchen goods and gave it to James. Minerva had come to Remus’ cabin to see him off and Horace tolerated him, a little twitchy but Remus felt confident. She slipped him a few potions—nothing she had brewed herself, an ability she did not possess, but certain magic liquids she collected over the years. They weren’t particularly helpful but provided solutions to possible situations, such as drinks to reverse poison effects and another to make the drinker go into deep sleep (could be given to an enemy or taken when severely injured, so the body can focus fully on recovering). One, however, could be life-saving—a potion that replenishes blood.

 

Gods, was Sirius grateful for Minerva and her care to put this much effort into seeing him.

 

Remus had lettered Alice and Frank through using Minerva’s private and sneaky messenger. Her eyes glistened playfully when she revealed she had written a letter to the couple as well, though Remus wasn’t aware, and sent it with a bow and arrows, in case Frank or Alice could be safely nearby during the full and get a shot at the evil wolf.

 

They checked the clock and Minerva quickly gave directions of Remus’ traveling: Sybil was westward and Alice and Frank lived North. Hopefully, the wolf pack lived near North, where they had been with Remus, but they could only make a guess. The pack had disappeared and how far they were willing to travel was difficult to say.

 

“Questions?”

 

Sirius glanced at the clock and shook his head. “Thank you, you cannot imagine how indebted I am to you. If there is anything I can ever provide, please, _please_ let me know. Thank you.”

 

“I have to decline your offer. It was my pleasure to come here.” She rose from her chair. “Now, I must see your back and change it to look irritated.”

 

Magic felt like a comforting hand made of water rubbing one’s back, warm and providing a brief flash of sleepy power. The walk back to Sirius’ chamber was a blur due to him being too stunned from magic’s touch.

 

“Will you be able to make it back safely?” He asked when they were in his room and she had changed back to Lily’s form.

 

“Oh, yes. Once I leave, I have a much easier, simpler form to take.”

 

Sirius wanted to know what the form was and why she appeared smug with her mystery. He thanked her a last time and said goodbye. Climbing into bed, he fell asleep with more ease than he had the past weeks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first month passed by at a speedy pace. With little to do after people left for the journey to another Kingdom, Sirius threw himself into training practice—hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting, and even archery, an area he lacked in skill and interest. 

 

“Siriu—uh, Prince Sirius, you will pass out if you don’t drink and eat soon,” Bones called out. Hurriedly he added, “If you do not mind me saying so. I apologize.”

 

Glancing around, Sirius saw no mother and no stuffy guards. He jogged over and rolled his eyes.

 

“Don’t worry. I don’t care.”

 

Bones grinned and nodded. Sirius smiled back, the first time this month. He liked Bones, realizing more and more that he was the good sort and perhaps even reliable for a secret, like Mary, if ever needed.

 

“I think I’d like to sit in the shade for a bit. Catch my breath.” Bones walking over to one of the trees and Sirius hesitated before following.

 

“Being in love is foolish, isn’t it?”

 

Sirius’ head snapped to Bones. How could he know? 

 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I only can tell ‘cos I’ve just fallen too.”

 

Sirius relaxed slightly. Bones didn’t say anything more and they sat in silence, soon becoming a companionable one. Sirius hadn’t known he needed something like this desperately, a touch of kindness, of escaping the numbing Black life.

 

“If you ever need to…go be foolish,” Sirius said nonchalantly, “I can help make that happen.”

 

Bones studied his face and grinned again—a very smiley fellow he was, big toothy grins—saying Sirius could trust him to do the same.

 

“Thank you, Bo—Edgar. Now, time for another round?”

 

Edgar groaned. “Are you out to kill me?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Grinding his teeth all during the day of the full moon, Sirius wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have any teeth left at nighttime. Remus should be with Alice and Frank now, transforming safely by their house.

 

_Everything is okay, everything will be okay,_ he chanted mentally, _they’ve taken care of him loads of times before. They know even more than I do. He’s safe. Everything will be okay._

 

No type of contact between him and Remus had come. 

 

He wasn’t aware of how or when he arrived in his bed that evening, only breaking through his hazy conscious when his door opened. 

 

“Fucking shitty hell,” James swore one of Remus’ trademarks. “Siri, are you alright?”

 

Sirius attempted to sit up and failed, not a drop of energy in his body. He distantly recognized James climbing into bed. In the back of his mind he felt frustration, this was the first he’d seen James in a month and he was wasting it by being a big pathetic lump.

 

“How long have you been like this?” Sirius didn’t respond. “Is this like one of your…brain sick days from, uh, from before?”

 

Sirius thought about James’ reference to two years ago, or now three years. He did his best to lift his shoulders in a shrug.

 

“Okay. Well, I’m going to sit here,” James spoke softly in a soothing tone. “I’m right here with you. I’m going to make you drink and eat a bit of something but other than that we can just relax. Do you want me to talk to you or sit like this together?”

 

“Talk,” Sirius croaked out.

 

James spent the whole night with Sirius, coaxing him into eating but otherwise not pushing him. It didn’t fix Sirius, he remained the same, though James helped greatly—prevented Sirius from disappearing inside of himself further, made him feel less lonely, and allowed him to fall asleep, feeling safe with James watching over him. Selfish thoughts popped up every now and then, Sirius wishing Remus was here instead of James, but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilty.

 

In the morning, James hugged Sirius and Sirius thanked him, finally finding his voice. 

 

“I’m scared,” he said.

 

“Me too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Walburga addressed Sirius over breakfast. She was the only one of the high ranks who stayed behind. “Your hunt exists for one month more. Our invitations to the Kingdoms have been sent out and you must bring the,” she wrinkled her nose, “ _beast_ here by the fifth night after the full moon.”

 

Sirius opened his mouth and she raised her eyebrows challengingly. He closed it.

 

“King Orion and Prince Regulus shall return tomorrow. I believe it would be best if you start taking your hunt more seriously.”

 

“You wish for me to depart to the forest?”

 

His mother ignored him. He took it as a yes. His mind split in two, her motive for saying this was to get Sirius out of the castle while they had meetings discussing their journey, important information on the dark Kingdoms plans.

 

“I believe your armor is readily accessible and the kitchen can provide you with food.”

 

Meaning: leave before evening.

 

Sirius stabbed his eggs.

 

—

 

On his way to his room, Sirius ran into Mary. As she passed him she whispered from the corner of her mouth, “The Queen is planning on you failing and using the banquet to introduce Prince Reg as the new next-in-line.”

 

—

 

Grimm sensed Sirius’ sadness and kept playfully nudging him with his head and drooping his ears to Sirius’ unresponsiveness. The ride to the village on the outskirts of the Kingdom was refreshing and painful. His heart sang to be returning home, oblivious to the fact no one would sing back. 

 

Grimm took control, instinctively going to the Inn and shocking Sirius back into himself in order to redirect his horse to the meadow. He hadn’t wondered until then what he would do with Grimm—let him have freedom in the forest? Sirius pushed this concern to tackle later.

 

Sirius slid off of his horse in the meadow, preferring to walk through the forest on foot, guiding Grimm by his reigns. He considered kissing the meadow’s ground, pick a red poppy, but ultimately he took a deep inhale and stepped forward. For some reason, he had expected the forest to be still either from Remus being gone or because Sirius came in uninvited. Here it was, however, birds chirping with different calls, the whoosh of a breeze, the cracking of twigs, a bug here and there. Sirius couldn’t decide if it was overwhelming in a good or bad way.

 

The sun had set and the remaining sunlight drained by the time they were at the cabin. Sirius decided to bring Grimm to the back of Remus’ home, firmly telling him to stay there. Being a Palace horse, Grimm was highly trained in taking directions and well acquainted with the command to stay—both he and Sirius were familiar with the treatment they’d receive if they misbehaved.

 

Sirius felt himself dissociate as he opened the cabin door. He made his way to the bed and bundled up under the quilts, falling into a fitful sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Sirius awoke—content? His lungs learned how to breathe again, his heart remembered how to beat, and his brain worked through the fog. He sat up and looked around the room, at the five chipped cups of tea sitting in random places and the book towers and the ugly patterned armchairs. A ghostly charming sound twinkled and it took Sirius a second to realize it was from the glass tree outside. A thought struck him and he grabbed one of the pillows, pressing his face into it and breathing in its scent. Remus’ shirt lost its smell long ago.

 

It smelled different, honey and herbs from tea and something he couldn’t place. But it was Remus. Still Remus. 

 

Sirius laughed, an almost barking sound that fell into giggles that fell into a sobbing-laughing mess that washed away the past month.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius spent his first days stuck in the cabin. He decided to let Grimm wander around the forest and the horse appeared to enjoy it, always coming back by night or in the afternoon. Sirius thanked his past self for remembering to pack horse food with him.

 

When he braved into stepping outside and exploring, he came across Grimm frolicking in a field. Sirius did his best to memorize the silly sight, he wanted Remus to know every detail.

 

The forest made him feel better, kept him from becoming a mindless lump. It cared for him, supplying him with a source of energy. He imagined it as Remus’ spirit being absorbed into the soil and the air and the water. He believed that to be true but it seemed more that it was the _forest_ taking care of him. The forest seemed to accept him as he was, separate from Remus.

 

Not every day was good. Some days he cried in bed and refused to leave. He couldn’t bring himself to visit the meadow and occasionally guilt overcame him, he felt bad experiencing the cabin and the outdoors without Remus.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Remus should have found the wolf pack by now. 

 

Sirius waited.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And waited.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And waited.

 

 

* * *

 

 

James came and they waited together.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius became painfully aware of the loneliness in waiting by himself.

  
 

* * *

 

 

He waited. Pretended not to be waiting. Stayed up all night waiting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He had been reading Alice’s books when he found the energy, consuming two a day every now and then. Finding the book on Ridley and the mountain lion, Sirius read it more than once. His belief in mountain lions being scary persisted and he half-chuckled, imagining Remus ranting about how they are perfectly lovable.

 

Remus’ bed was old and rickety, a hard adjustment from the luxurious beds at the Palace. There was a particular lumpy spot on the left side and Sirius became irrationally irritated one night, jumping out of bed and intending to move the mattress around. He lifted it easily, partly because of its thinness and partly because of the new muscles he had packed on from training.

 

A loud thump came from the other side of the bed, the left side. Sirius froze, though he didn’t know why.

 

He walked over slowly and a book lay before him. Picking it up, he tried to flip through the pages and read the content to no avail, the darkness from night was too inky and thick. He should have gone to bed, he should have, but the book possessed him, leading him to start a fire in the small chimney. It hardly provided enough light, the flickering of light and shadows on the pages gave him a headache, but it was enough. For this, it was enough.

 

It was the book of Arnold and Jacob—the book Remus had been reading the first time they met, the book Sirius lamely referenced the first time they kissed.

 

He had to pause when it came to the part of Arnold calling Jacob pretty. He read all through the night and into the morning and then into noon. Several times, he needed to take a break to make tea, walk in a short circle around the room, or find something that smelled like Remus. He didn’t think it was as well-written as some of Alice’s other books but the feelings behind it were raw and captivating. 

 

Near the end, he came across a page with a strange bluish ink underlining a large section of text. 

 

‘ _I'm not very good at loving you. I'm not very good at many things. But,’ Jacob glanced up at Arnold, shy and fierce all at once, ‘if you don't mind, I'd like to keep you.’_

 

_A string of images flipped through Arnold’s mind. The day they met at the funeral and the party afterward; how the sun kissed Jacob’s auburn hair and how his dark eyes flickered once to Arnold’s stare during the ceremony; when Arnold needed fresh air and stepped outside, followed by Jacob soon after on accident and his soft voice apologizing for interrupting, and the flush on his dark cheeks when Arnold inquired if he would join in his company; how he made Jacob laugh for the first time, that mad laugh of his, how it would explode out and embarrass him, the sweet addiction to needing to hear it constantly, to be the source of it._

 

_Arnold’s reminiscing dragged on for enough moments to drive Jacob crazy. At last he said, ‘I am terribly afraid to inform you of this,’ he sighed, ‘but I cannot give you what I have already given.’ Now he was the bashful and earnest one. ‘You have kept me from the moment your dark eyes met mine.’_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius waited and reread passages of the book and waited and read the underlined and wondered what it meant—did Remus love that passage and underlined it long ago? Did Alice underline it? Did Remus hide the book purposefully under the mattress for Sirius to find and to leave him that quote? It was a very Remus-y thing to do but Sirius felt too embarrassed to make an assumption.

 

_I’d like to keep you._

 

Sirius waited.

 

 

* * *

 

James visited again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius and the moon taunted each other, holding staring contests. The more it swelled in a shimmery white, the more it won. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lily came and slipped something into his tea, something strong that knocked him unconscious into the next day so that he missed the night of the full moon. He didn’t know if he was more angry or grateful—he felt he deserved to have waited up all night and hate himself, hyping himself up into hysterics over what could be happening in that moment. At the same time, he didn’t know if he could have gone through that horror.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius waited the next two days without sleep. Three more days until the banquet. He didn’t leave the cabin other than to check on and give love to Grimm. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius didn’t remember a minute of the next day. Hours of tossing and turning ticked by.

 

As slumber finally pulled him into its folds, there was a loud banging on the door. 


	11. promises and ancient black blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This update is so late but so much is going on and I'm having to split a chapter I want into two parts because it's taking so long to finish and I wanted to give you guys a little something--which means another cliffhanger, sorry!
> 
> *I swear there will be fluff!! I miss writing Remus so much. There will be 2 more chapters and the last one will be an entirely fluffy epilogue so sweet your teeth will rot

Sirius jerked awake to the pounding. Before he gained even half of his consciousness, he was standing at the door, sword in hand.

 

_Remus Remus Remus._ After two months of waiting, Sirius felt ready to vomit his guts up. What if somebody from the Palace was at the door—he couldn’t be seen here. But what if this was Remus, Sirius couldn’t waste moments. The door creaked from frantic pounding again and with a strangled internal _fuck it_ Sirius opened the door, sword drawn. 

 

A man more than a head shorter than Sirius froze momentarily at the sight of him and then began gesticulating desperately.

 

“Frank?”

 

The man nodded so hard Sirius thought his head would snap off. Sirius flipped into emergency mode.

 

“Where is Remus? Where the hell is he? Is he okay? What happened? Frank!”

 

Frank grimaced before pushing Sirius out of the way, barging into the cabin. Sirius sprinted out the door, crushing several of Remus’ flowers in his haste, squinting in the darkness. The dark outlines of trees were still, no breeze ruffling their leaves, the air hot and sticky. The absence of the glass tree’s haunting music sent a shiver down his back. Without the fairy-esque quality of clinking glass, the quiet was far more foreboding. 

 

_Remus remus remus remus._ Where was he? There was nothing to hint at his presence—not a sound besides a goddamn fucking owl that Sirius was going to throw a rock at if it didn’t stop fucking hooting.

 

Time passed quickly and nonsensically. Sirius was covered in mud and half-sobbing on the ground as Frank darted through the cabin, arranging the bed, grabbing herbs from the garden, starting a fire for tea or something—Sirius wasn’t paying attention. From time to time, Frank would press a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he scurried by, as if that meant something.

 

“Hello?” A voice called out.

 

Sirius sucked in a breath and fell twice as he scrambled out the door, scraping his knees awfully. The chilly air revived him, shocking his body into alert. His heart thrummed, shuddered, attempted to burst out of his chest to search for its counterpart. A dim glow emerged from the trees, and Sirius rushed forward to meet it. His eyes took time adjusting to the new light before he was able to see who had arrived. 

 

“Oh dear,” a woman with a thick accent said, riding a horse pulling a wagon lit with lanterns. “I’m Alice—”

 

“Remus,” Sirius interjected, _“Remus.”_

 

“He’s good, Sirius, he’s pained badly but he’s—he’s going to be okay.”

 

Sirius learned what “pained badly” meant when he stumbled to the back of the wagon and looked inside.

 

He hunched over and vomited.

 

—

 

“He’s going to be okay?” Sirius asked for the umpteenth time.

 

Frank had pulled the three armchairs to surround the bed. He sat in one of them, anxiously twiddling his thumbs, and Sirius sat on the floor beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. Alice squatted next to him. 

 

“Yes,” she reassured. Sirius swallowed thickly, her soothing voice sounded so similar to the one Remus adopted when he comforted Sirius. “I promise, Sirius. I’ve tended Remus’ wounds before. Trust me.”

 

Sirius rested his forehead on the mattress, taking minutes to collect himself. While Frank transported Remus to the bed, Alice had made Sirius some cup of tea she called a “calming draught”. He wasn’t sure if it was the tea working or if it was having Remus in his sight that had calmed him down. Well, as calm as he could be. 

 

His stomach churned but he was determined not to throw up again, not in Remus’ home. _He’s safe, he’s here, he’s alive,_ Sirius repeated. 

 

“Si-ri-us?” 

 

Sirius’ head sprang up and he half-rose, reaching his unoccupied hand to cup—he scanned Remus’ head for an unharmed patch of skin, eventually settling for caressing the right side of Remus’ hair. Remus didn’t open his eyes but he was awake, slightly, his breathing pattern altered. 

 

“Sirius?” He mumbled again, this time pronouncing it in one go.

 

“Yes, yes, I’m here, it’s me, I’m here, love.”

 

Remus said Sirius name again, this time like a sigh. Sirius remembered his first night in Remus’ bed when they whispered each other’s names.

 

“Remus,” he said.

 

It was the right thing to do. Remus gently, barely, the tiniest jerk of a movement, squeezed Sirius’ hand and promptly fell back asleep, his breaths more even.

 

“He’s been saying that the entire journey.”

 

Sirius wiped his wet eyes and looked at Alice. Her accent dropped Hs, her sentences coming out like _’e’s been saying…_

 

“He’s been in and out of it, running a high fever, but when he had the energy he repeated your name. Nothing _we_ said soothed him but,” she trailed off and gestured to Sirius and then Remus. She smiled.

 

“I’m sorry that had to be so dramatic. I needed Frank to run ahead and get the room ready, and I thought you’d be relieved to see one of us. Frank explained he was the opposite of comfort, though.”

 

Sirius frowned—Frank hadn’t spoken even with his wife here.

 

“He can’t talk.” Alice released a deep chuckle at Sirius’ startled expression. “He can barely hear and therefore can’t talk that well. Alright at reading lips, though. Rem taught us a hand language he learned from his travels. He didn’t tell you?”

 

Sirius shook his head.

 

“He can be so forgetful,” she tutted, reaching out to touch Remus’ feet. She stretched and stood up, taking the armchair next to Frank.

 

“We had a few days on the road to cry our worries out,” she said, tucking her feet underneath her. “I’m sure you need some space. If you’d like to step outside, we can watch over him.”

 

Sirius shook his head, his fingers curling around Remus’. 

 

“Okay. We can discuss details when Rem is more awake. We’ll need to move to Minerva’s come morning.”

 

He nodded numbly.

 

Alice and Frank fell asleep, clasped hands over the armchairs. 

 

Sirius imagined Remus being awake and whispering facts about the couple. Their skin was dark brown, more than James’, and he imagined Remus telling him if they celebrated their culture or if it was lost like James’. Remus would tell him where they lived. The north was split into two sections: the side where sun scorched skin and the side where rain never ceased. Remus would tell him about all the animals and plants native to there, which ones he brought to his garden. 

 

He would tell Sirius stories of Frank, of the hand language, of how he was a simple bookbinder while being incredibly athletic and having a bulky, muscular stature.

 

He would tell Sirius about Alice, about her wide nose that looked as if it had been broken at least once and her improper cropped hair. He would talk about her weird teas and maybe Remus had seen the mountain lion with her and they’d tell Sirius that story. Sirius would attempt and fail at finding a polite way to ask Remus if Alice was pregnant or naturally round in the stomach and Remus would throw his head back and laugh at Sirius.

 

He would tell Sirius about how they were as a couple. James and Lily were impressively in sync with each other but Alice and Frank were on a whole other level. They seemed to be five steps ahead of the other, moving and working around each other as if they had one mind, without even glancing the other’s way. They weren’t tactile, holding hands was the first Sirius had seen of them touching, but looking at them, it was obvious they were a couple. Sirius didn’t know how to explain it but you looked at the two, and you knew. 

 

Sirius hoped Remus and him were the same even though he knew that would make hiding their relationship more complicated. In the latest of nights as he lay in bed, he liked to believe they were soulmates.

 

Remus did not tell him any of these things. 

 

He slept unaware of everything, his body covered in bandages, not under a single quilt. Alice said that they needed to see all of him, in case a wound reopened and bled through the bandage. She didn’t tell Sirius much of his medical condition beyond the basics. He tried to keep from panicking over why Remus’ wounds kept reopening if his body naturally heals itself. He didn’t understand why some of his wounds _had_ healed, red and scabbing but mostly healed, while other hadn't. 

 

Sirius lifted a hand, hovering above to trace a swollen S-shaped scabbing cut on Remus’ right cheek. It started above his eyebrow, curved around the right side of his eye, became scarily close to his eye as it took a sharp turn to go below his bottom eyelid, and then made another turn to finish the end of the S curve, going towards the ear. Sirius could hardly bear to look at the left side of Remus’ face. Messy scabs ran from his left jaw, close to his ear, and partially down his neck. There’d be no denying a wild animal caused this injury—three clear claw marks. 

 

The rest of his wounds were hidden under bandages. Across his torso, his thighs, his arms, his back.

 

Sirius’ wished to kiss each better, even if it took as many kisses as there were bees in the world.

 

“Sirius.”

 

Sirius shifted his head. “Remus.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“Remus.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“Remus.”

 

Remus’ mouth tipped upwards, the first expression he’d made. He whispered _Sirius_ once more. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Love, we’re going to move you to the wagon,” Sirius kept a steady stream of crooning as Alice and Frank carried Remus on his mattress. The sun hadn’t broken the horizon yet. Sirius had always thought this was a strange time—the sky looked the same as it did after sunset. If someone had no idea what time of day it was and they went outside, they would have to guess. Pre-sun or post-sun; a dark sky lightening or a light sky darkening?

 

He wondered what Remus would think of that.

 

Alice said he’d do best to hold Remus’ hand and keep him calm while they transported him, but the most Remus did was grunt once with no sign of distress. Sirius thought the real reason was she and Frank doubted his strength. He would have felt offended if he wasn't impressed to distraction by Alice’s bulging arm muscles. 

 

The mauled, rotting wolf remained in the wagon, forgotten in last night’s events. Sirius gagged at the deathly smell, several notches up from Remus’ bloody and infected scent.

 

“He’s not lying next to that a second time,” Sirius said in a too calm voice. The calm that surpassed the severest of all anger. Alice’s eyes widened marginally.

 

“There’s no choice. We’ve been,” she paused, closing her eyes with a pained expression. She reopened them. “The whole time, we’ve had to keep them together. The guilt has been unbearable but there’s nowhere else to put him, Sirius.”

 

Grimm pinned his ears back a good distance away as if he heard Sirius’ next thoughts. The wolf weighed too much for Grimm to carry and would leave no room for Sirius. Bile rose in his throat, burning nearly as much as Sirius’ horror at allowing his love next to a monster.

 

“Remus can’t—he—he _can’t._ ”

 

Alice and Frank exchanged a look over the mattress. Despite holding the mattress like it weighed nothing more than a feather, Alice insisted they had to set it down due to its heaviness. Slowly, Alice and Frank set the top of it down on the wagon and pushed the rest in, watching Sirius for any protests. It squished the wolf, causing the mangled left leg to drape on it. Sirius clenched his fists.

 

He expected Alice to talk him through his outrage but instead, Frank walked over and set a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Brown, nearly black eyes stared into Sirius’ until Sirius hung his head and unclenched his fists. Frank smiled, the edges of it kind. 

 

Sirius fussed over Remus, tucking a quilt over him and making sure the mattress was firmly in. He jabbed the wolf’s leg off.

 

Mildly satisfied, Sirius mounted Grimm, longing to ride behind the wagon and keep an eye on Remus. He had to lead the way, though, and so he patted Grimm, moving them forward.

 

—

 

As they came to a halt in front of the house, a loud _bang_ was heard. James and Lily ran to meet them.

 

“Sirius!”

 

“Remus!”

 

Sirius jerked his head to the wagon and James ran to it. Lily looked back and forth between Sirius and the wagon, hesitant, before following James. With no desire to see their facial reaction, Sirius looked straight ahead as he tied Grimm’s reigns to the post and ignored the gasps and cries of shock.

 

He made his way to the back door as his two friends spoke with Remus’ two friends. Minerva stood in the doorway, face white as a sheet, her body visibly trembling. Loose locks of dark hair fell from her bun. Sirius felt a surge of kinship with her, like a lightning bolt, and his throat closed up.

 

“He’s, he’s—alive, he’s,” Sirius heaved a big exhale, voice cracking, “alive.”

 

Only with this confirmation did Minerva step over the threshold, hurrying to Alice and Frank, who carried the mattress over to them. Sirius didn’t look to see her reaction and he heard no noise from her, which felt far worse than if she had made a sound.

 

After setting the mattress next to the fireless fireplace, in view from the dining area, and putting a tarp over the wagon to hide the wolf, the six others gathered in a huddle around the table. Sirius and Alice stood, ready to move in seconds if Remus needed, and the rest sat at the table, Minerva closest to Remus’ direction. 

 

Sirius asked the question that had been pressing his mind, “How did you know we were coming?”

 

Alice spoke first. “I think I have the answer. Frank befriended a devil woodpecker in the North and unveiled a strange bird-bonding talent. He insists the woodpecker taught him bird language.” She stopped and hand-signaled Frank.

 

A grin lit up his face and he opened his mouth, releasing a garbled mix between a rooster’s crow and a cat mewling. He closed his mouth and looked at everyone expectantly.

 

“Beautiful, honey, absolutely beautiful,” Alice said, moving her hands rapidly as she spoke, presumably signaling what she was saying to him. She pursed her lips and widened her eyes to everyone but her husband— _see what I have to deal with?_ “Birds respond well to it, strangely. You dozed,” she looked at Sirius, “for a few minutes and Frank snuck out and did his bird-thing.”

 

Minerva nodded. “A small yellow bird flew down my chimney and sang endlessly. I thought it best to be cautious and assume it was a signal rather than be remorseful that I discarded the warning. I sent my messenger for Lily and James.”

 

A headache began building behind Sirius’ eyes. The scene was far too diplomatic, conversing over a table while Remus looked to be dying. _Not dying,_ Sirius furiously corrected, _severely injured—‘pained badly’._

 

Alice signaled to Frank and he turned to Minerva. She hand signaled him and he went off to the kitchen.

 

“The ride cooled Remus’ skin,” Alice explained. “Which is good. He’s had high fevers.”

 

Lily’s eyebrows raised. “This whole time? These three, now four days?”

 

“Yes. It seems to break but it keeps coming back.”

 

“How serious are they? Has the heat intensity been constant?”

 

Alice’s gaze flickered to Sirius briefly, her response delayed. She said nothing more than, “His skin’s been…beyond warm.”

 

Frank returned through the kitchen doorway, a bucket sloshing water in one hand and a bundle of rags in the other. Tuning out of the conversation, Sirius watched Frank walk to and around the mattress, going to the side that allowed Sirius to see every action he made. Frank kneeled and felt Remus’ face before wetting one of the rags and gingerly laying it across Remus’ forehead. Wetting another, he placed it around Remus’ neck. Remus must have made some noise of protest because Frank shook his head with a smile.

 

“…return to the castle.”

 

Sirius turned to James. “What?”

 

“Lils and I need to go back soon. We’ll already be late at this point. We didn’t have time to get people to cover us. And,” James’ brown eyes were large, “you need to come—”

 

“No! I can’t leave Remus. I want to wait until he’s better. I’ll go in the evening or tomorrow.”

 

“Sirius,” Lily said quietly, “he’s not going to get better.”

 

“What do you, what do you—” Sirius stepped back, his insides swirling with sharp icicles that poked holes through his skin, his innards escaping out.

 

“No! Sorry, Sirius, that’s not what I meant! I mean he won’t be better before you leave, it will take days, more than just one, for him to recover! He’s going to recover, Sirius, I didn’t mean he’s dy—”

 

Someone pulled a chair out and pushed Sirius down onto it. James appeared before him, pressing his hand on Sirius’ upper arm in a grounding presence. Lily continued to apologize.

 

“Sirius.” He looked up at Minerva. “Remus is alive.”

 

The icicles settled, melting into harmless—for now—water.

 

“We’re taking care of him and doing our best but it won’t be quick,” Alice said with Frank back by her side. Sirius noted her body had become taut.

 

“See? They’re healing him and they have Minerva. There’s nothing she can’t do. You need to come with us, Siri, the grand party is tomorrow. If you don’t come home—”

 

“That’s _not_ my home.”

 

“—if you don’t come back to the Palace today, the Queen will spread news of your failure. Lils and I will feel better if you ride with us now and not by yourself later.”

 

“Wait.” Struck with a thought, Sirius turned to Alice. “Where’s Horace?”

 

“Oh. Uh, he, disappeared? Rem refused to bring him close to the wolf pack and had us keep him back. Without him, the crazy horse went wild and ran away.”

 

Nobody knew how to digest that.

 

“He was a good horse, though. Speedy. Remus arrived at our house nearly a week early, which was good because we had to travel far to the wolf pack.” Alice finally revealed part of their and Remus’ story. “We weren’t able to stay at our home—had to stock up on supplies and leave immediately to make it there in time. Rem transformed in an unfamiliar forest and then we camped out there for four days or so, letting him rest.” Alice sighed. “He needed more time to rest, especially in such an uncomfortable setting, but we needed to keep going.

 

“Unlucky but lucky. The wolves lived close to here, making the journey to them long but the journey here short and we made it to you in time.” Her gaze trained on Remus’ sleeping form, she repeated solemnly, “Unlucky but lucky.”

 

Sirius processed the information, pushing out thoughts about Remus having only four days to recuperate with no indoor luxuries or protection. Semi-successfully, he switched into Black Prince mode, where analytical defeated emotional. “What Kingdom?”

 

Alice signaled Frank—her hands had been moving in a steady stream throughout everyone speaking, some of it requiring her to use her face for certain signals, for translation—and he signaled her back. “Frank says Light? Wait—no, L-U-M-O-S? Lum-os? Loo-mos?”

 

“The second one, Lumos.” Sirius catalogued that for later. “That’s so close to us. Wow.” He pushed down the delirious anger over how close the pack was, how if they had known Sirius could have killed the wolf himself or at least have accompanied Remus to the wolves. “At least if it had to be any territory it was theirs. They are an exceptionally kind Kingdom.”

 

“Which is why the Blacks hate them, of course,” James joked. Everyone smiled weakly. Sirius touched James’ hand that still held his opposite upper arm, squeezing it lightly. 

 

“You need to come with us,” James whispered to Sirius. They pretended everyone wasn’t listening.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“ _James._ What if this was Lily?”

 

“I’d smack him if he ever tried to stay behind,” Lily interjected. “Also, refrain from using me as a tool to make a point.” Her tender smile sandpapered the harshness of the statement.

 

Minerva broke through her listening-only act, asking in a not-question, “Alice.”

 

Again, Alice’s gaze flickered to Sirius. She rocked on her toes, her lips parted open to show teeth biting tongue. Frank nudged her with his shoulder. “We didn’t want to freak you out but Remus needs medical help, urgently, the type we can’t give and don’t have the knowledge or resources for. This isn’t normal—his fevers don’t last this long and I’ve never seen his wounds reopen before,” Alice spat without a breath in-between, making it difficult to hear with her thick accent.

 

Sirius’ head whipped to where Remus laid. He waited and waited and waited and—oh thank _fuck_. Remus’ chest raised and fell. _Alive. Alive alive alive._ His cheeks were flushed, another sign of life but a sign of sickness as well. Someone needed to re-wet the rags, maybe add more. Frank locked eyes with him, looking to think the same.

 

Everything in him shrieked to be next to Remus, to be with him, to pray to a god to switch their bodies, to absorb his pain. Curling his fingers inward to drag his nails over his palm, Sirius stood up but kept his feet planted in the same spot. He needed more information from Alice—he tried not to be angry with her. She kept this from him—they’ve wasted precious time!

 

“Bring him with you,” James said. “Say you rescued him.”

 

Sirius pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “Yes.” He closed his eyes and swallowed, reopened them. “Yes, yes, I don’t care what happens, I need—he needs help.” His voice croaked, “He’s coming with me. The Palace has the best care, the top medics. They have, they, they can help him.”

 

He slid his palm over his eyes, trying to keep his emotions in check. _How bad was urgent? Remus was okay, he’s breathing, he spoke to me._ His mind firmly blocked out all the terrified thoughts and coated his brain in heavy denial. He dropped his hand, eyes finding Remus again.

 

“It’s perfect actually,” Lily said, her voice a touch too high-pitched. “You heroically saved him. Everyone will eat the story up.”

 

Before Sirius could press Alice for more information, there was a horrible hacking cough and then his name. He was at Remus’ side at once, sitting before him and ready to give him the world if he asked for it. Pushing all other thoughts away, he cupped his love’s cheek, ignoring the hotness of it. Unlike Frank, he was not kind enough to be on the mattress’ side that showed all his movements. All anyone would see was his back.

 

It wouldn’t be later into the evening that Sirius would remember Alice’s wide eyes when Remus spoke and the way she grabbed Lily, whispering furtively in the corner of the room. He’d be furious with himself for not questioning Minerva’s paleness as she signaled with Frank, their hands moving faster than Horace could gallop.

 

“Sirius,” Remus mumbled again, his eyes closed.

 

“What do you—I’m here, baby. I lo—Remus.” Sirius reached to grab the glass of water someone set by the bed, helping Remus to sip. They were always attempting to get him to drink, though it was much harder when he was unconscious. Water dribbled down his chin.

 

Sirius took the cloths off and re-wet them, thankful the water remained chill, placing them back gently on Remus’ forehead and neck. Remus’ skin _burned_. Wetting another cloth, Sirius hesitated, not knowing where to put it. He looked over his shoulder and Frank caught his eye, slyly tapping his wrist, inner thigh, and pointed to his feet. Nobody noticed him lifting his hand and showing two fingers. After placing only two rags, one for each wrist, Sirius turned his head again, mouthing the word _thank you_ slowly and clearly. Frank flashed a toothy smile.

 

“Mmm. Mm.” Remus struggled to talk.

 

“Love, I’m right here, don’t talk. Rest, please. Please. I’m holding your hand, I’m right here.”

 

“No. I wa-want to talk.” His voice was hushed and gravelly, not enough energy to talk any louder.

 

Sirius begged, “ _Remus_.”

 

“It hurts but. Talk about y-you. After everything—talk me. Weeks—complain.”

 

They were unfinished sentences, half-formed thoughts, but Sirius understood. “Yes, yes, all the time in the world for you to complain, forever. And be pampered, too. I’ll carry you everywhere and do everything for you, I’ll spoon feed you and wash you and read you every book ever written. I’ll be your personal mule, your lovely servant. You’ll be a King.”

 

Remus smiled and then winced as it stretched his cuts. “Talk to me.”

 

“I don’t know if I can do this, Remus. When I saw you,” Sirius’ throat closed up. “I thought,” his voice died out again. “I want to stay with you. I can’t leave your side. _Please_.”

 

“You havta.”

 

“ _How. How_ can I attend a _whole_ evening away from you? You need me. I-I need you.”

 

Remus forced each word. “Sirius Black, I whooped this damn-fucking huge-ass wolf’s ass for you and you’re going to let it be in vain?”

 

“Wha—no!”

 

Remus relaxed into a smugness so Remus-y it nearly killed Sirius. “Then you need. To party. This the end. So close.”

 

“But how? What if, what if someone doesn’t believe me and realizes you are the werewolf? We’re bringing you to the castle’s healers. You’ll be vulnerable. I need to _protect you._ ”

 

“All you hafta. Be, lo-ve. Be you. You talent—story-telling. Like under stars, when you stories.”

 

Thinking about sleeping under the stars and the ghost memory of Remus’ hot breath fanning across his neck as they slept together was an arrow to Sirius’ heart. “But those are real,” every story he had told was from his life, “this isn’t.”

 

“There’s no one you can’t charm, believe me,” Remus put more energy into speaking, his voice raising, “you just have to be you. Be you,” Remus turned his head and opened his eyes, the first Sirius had seen them in two months, so pale and so green and so beautiful, and he removed his hand from Sirius’, raising it with violent tremors. Sirius quickly leaned his head in to lessen the amount of movement. Remus cupped the top part of Sirius’ cheek, going over his ear and into his hair. 

 

“My Sirius,” he murmured.

 

He dropped his hand and coughed weakly. “I’ll be waiting for you,” he said as he slipped into instant sleep.

 

—

 

Sirius gladly left Minerva and walked to the corner of the room, where Frank and Alice didn’t watch cuts appear on his skin in fascination. He had enjoyed the tingly feeling of magic again but not so much being half-naked in front of strangers. His body looked vastly different than when he had gone swimming with Remus, the small amount of food he had eaten in the forest and the intense physical training had slimmed down his stomach, hinted to the firm muscles underneath. 

 

Now covered with gashes and cuts, Lily bandaged him up while James fretted, asking Sirius multiple times if the fake injuries actually hurt. From his periphery vision, Sirius could see Minerva watching them, contemplative. She had said he needed to practice how these “injuries” hurt and how they affected his walk, posture, everything. Ever since he responded that he needed no practice to perform that perfectly and it wouldn’t be a worry, she’d been staring at him.

 

She surprised him with her calmness at having to stay behind and not accompany Remus to the Palace.

 

“I acquired a possession I believe you will enjoy.” 

 

Lily and James pushed him to go out the back door with Minerva. As curious as he was, not having Remus in view… 

 

Sirius gathered his courage and left the cottage, walking around to the side of the house opposite to the horse post. His jaw fell open, literally dropped down, at the sight before him.

 

“Is that,” he exhaled more than said. “It’s…”

 

“A wagon, yes,” Minerva confirmed. “All yours to take. You didn’t believe I would allow Remus to lie beside that creature any longer, did you?”

 

Sirius had no words. He walked up to the wagon chipped with red paint, running his hand over it. The sides weren’t tall walls like Alice and Frank’s, but it had a good back wall you could pin up, soothing Sirius’ concern that Remus could fall out onto the road. It was well worn and nothing compared to the Black transportation vehicles. 

 

Sirius gazed at it like he gazed at Remus, in awe.

 

He said to Minerva, “Thank you, _thank you._ Thank you. I recognize you are doing this for Remus but you cannot understand how much it means to me.” He bowed regally, folding his torso. “Thank you.”

 

Minerva bowed her head, as she did when she first met him, but with more feeling, sincerity more willingly given.

 

Sirius remembered the way the forest had accepted him as he was.

 

—

 

James dragged Sirius to the grassy hill behind Minerva’s house. Everyone else readied the wagons and Remus. Minerva magic-ed the wolf to have less claw mark wounds and more sword-looking cuts.

 

James grabbed Sirius’ hands, turning them palms up and frowning at the deep scratches clotted with blood. “No more of this, no scraping. I’ll rip your fingernails off if I have to.”

 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m, I’m,” Sirius kicked the ground, violently shoving out a clump of dirt. “Fucking fucking fuckity, fu—ck.” He smashed his foot violently into the ground again, pain shooting up his ankle. He ripped his hands out of James’. “He’s _mauled_ Jamie, fucking _mauled_. I lo—he’s, he’s _mine_ , Jamie, he’s mine and I’m his and he’s hurt and I fucking can’t do shit about it! The pack was in fucking Lumos, James! I could have fucking done—fucking,” Sirius yanked a fistful of his hair, his breath ragged, “clawed nearly to _death_ in Lumos, James! Lumos!”

 

James wound his arms around Sirius, not saying anything but Sirius could feel the fast, uneven rise and fall of his chest. “I can’t, I can’t I can’t I can’t,” Sirius whispered.

 

Clutching Sirius’ shoulders, James pulled back, his eyes intense and his voice fierce. “Sirius, you are a Black and you are a _Potter._ There’s nothing you can’t do. Nothing.” His fingers tightened. “I am going to watch Remus and you are going to prepare for that party and fucking play those assholes like you’ve been playing everyone all these years.”

 

“Rem—”

 

“We’re brothers, right?”

 

“Y-yes.”

 

“Then trust me. I’ll protect Remus with my life.”

 

“You don’t have—”

 

“Yes. I do. Remus is my friend.” He pulled Sirius back in, squeezing him. 

 

After a few minutes, James said, “I kinda feel like picking up some rocks and chucking them as hard as I can.”

 

When Lily came after them, Sirius dropped his fifteenth rock and slumped. Instead of telling them to come back, she picked up the rock he dropped and threw it farther than any of his and James’. She knocked her elbow with Sirius' and smiled. 

 

“I’m here for you, remember? In whatever way.”

 

—

 

The sun climbed the sky at the same pace Sirius and the others rode to the castle. They had three horses—Grimm, who carried Sirius and pulled Minerva’s wagon, the Black servant horse, who carried Lily and Alice, and Alice and Frank’s horse, who carried Frank and pulled the wolf wagon. James sat with Remus in the wagon, a position Sirius envied greatly. 

 

Sirius rode in morose silence. Squinting in the harsh sunlight, he counted Grimm’s footsteps, strained his ears to catch anything the girls quietly conversed about, and stretched his neck to look behind at Remus every few minutes. His stomach gurgled from hunger and nausea. He and James had talked at the start of the journey, plotting Sirius’ legendary battle, with Alice and Lily adding suggestions every now and then. After a while, they found nothing more to say.

 

A large black bird crowed at them in a tree naked of leaves. 

 

Fingers snapped and Sirius checked to make sure there were no sharp turns in the road before turning his head. The dirt road was wide enough for Frank and Sirius to ride side by side comfortably with their wagons. Stopping his finger snapping, Frank smiled and pointed to Minerva’s wagon.

 

“Remus?”

 

Frank cocked his head, eyebrows scrunched together.

 

Sirius repeated, “Remus”, but slower, moving his mouth clearly as he said the word

 

Frank nodded. Letting go of the reigns, he brought his two hands together. His thumbs pushed together and downward while his other fingers stretched up in a curve, each nail touching its twin on the other hand.

 

“Heart?”

 

Frank broke the heart to make a so-so hand wave.

 

“Uh,” Sirius racked his brain. “Remus…Remus loves?”

 

Frank nodded his head enthusiastically and pointed at Sirius.

 

Squeaking, Sirius shook his head. “No, no. He—he likes me, but love,” he pushed a hand through his hair, wishing he had a ribbon to tie it back, “no.”

 

Frank’s tongue peeked out and he forced a breath through his mouth, making a farting noise. Sirius tried not to smile but a small one wormed its way onto his face. He realized for the first time that Frank was older than them, by five years or so, his laughter lines deep and telling of time, the good kind. Frank snapped his fingers to regain Sirius’ attention, pointing to Remus again.

 

“Remus.”

 

Frank nodded, paused for a minute, and then shook his head.

 

“Are you saying not Remus or the next word is no?”

 

Frank held up two fingers.

 

“Okay, Remus no.”

 

Heart hands again— _love._

 

They spent several, several, several minutes on the next part. Frank stayed patient through it all. It bewildered Sirius, if their positions were reversed he would have been beyond frustrated. Frank clapped his hands together suddenly, a look of joy painted on his face. He pointed to his crotch. Heat crept up Sirius’ neck. Frank huffed and curled his hand, placing it down there. With his other hand, he touched the curled hand and then moved it slowly away and downward, going in the direction of the ground.

 

Sirius took his time. “Pee?”

 

Frank threw his hands in the air in celebration and Sirius let out a loud whoop. They both grabbed onto their reigns as they swayed dangerously from their horses jostling. Sirius waited for Frank to look at him before saying he was ready. 

 

Frank made a circle with his hand.

 

“Circle? Um, round? Hole? Hole! Yes! Okay…Remus—no—love—pee—hole. Remus doesn’t like his pee hole?”

 

Frank smiled indulgently at Sirius’ joke. He moved his hand in a circular motion, _go on._ Sirius tackled _pee hole_ , confidence coming from his developing riddle-solving skills. _Pee—hole, pee hole, peehole._

 

Remembering the “say this five times fast” childhood game, Sirius spoke out loud. “Peeholepeeholepeepholepeephole—oh! Peephole! People!”

 

With Frank’s confirmation, Sirius moved forth. “Remus doesn’t love people.”

 

From ahead, Alice said. “He’s right, you know. He pushes anyone and everyone away, whether they wished to be friends or more. I don’t know about the rest of his life, he’s so modest, but—we’ve known him four, five? years. Never had a friend and only mentions Minnie. Frank’s saying you must be very special.”

 

Frank couldn’t have known anything Alice had said, or even know she was talking, because her body stayed straight ahead before them. Despite this, Frank gestured to her in a feigned condescending _see?_ gesture.

 

The road narrowed and Frank fell behind to bring up the rear.

 

Sirius returned to a subdued state. Fiery jealousy slithered within him at the idea of people attempting to court Remus, even as a friend. Remus wasn’t a possession, but, but he was _Sirius’_ , they were each other’s. Sirius didn’t care how stupid it sounded — Remus was his soulmate. A pang of sadness combated it, his heart aching over how lonely Remus’ life had been. He deserved a friend. Now he had Sirius, though, and Sirius swore loneliness would never rule Remus’ life any longer.

 

And Sirius could do this because Remus had chosen him. He chose Sirius. Sirius didn’t quite understand but Remus _chose him._ He gifted Sirius his company, found Sirius worthy of it when he thought no one else was.

 

Remus wanted Sirius to be his. 

 

They passed by a field of wildflowers and Sirius’ eyes searched every square of it until he found a bee flying in lazy circles.

 

—

 

“We’re stopping by the river,” Lily called out.

 

They had taken the long route back to the castle, a path no one else would be on. Late afternoon was upon them and the Palace was within sight, the sharp towers piercing the sky. They checked Sirius’ wounds and the wolf’s fake cuts, muddied and roughened Sirius’ appearance, and said their goodbyes to Lily and James.

 

“We’ll take the shortcut and put the servant’s horse away. Lils will rush to the infirmary and be there in time for Remus, we promise, we’ll go as fast as we can.”

 

Sirius and James embraced, both saying, _be safe._ Lily pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed Sirius’ cheek.

 

“Everyone will be watching you,” she reminded him. “Be very, very careful. We’ll figure some system out to keep you updated on Remus but…” She nibbled her lip. “Wait for us to come to you. Don’t come to us, no matter how worried you are. We can’t risk it.” She kissed his other cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of him, I swear on it.”

 

Their departure carried a chunk of Sirius away. 

 

Sirius had one thing he needed to do before they went on. He climbed into Minerva’s wagon, mindful of Remus’ body.

 

“Hello, love. We are going to the castle to bring you to the healers.” Remus made no indication he was listening, his eyes closed and body slack. Sirius laid a hand lightly on his bandaged chest to feel him breathing. “They’re going to take care of you and you’ll be better in no time. We have the best of the best healers. I’m sure they don’t know about the plants and ointments you have, but no one can be as smart as you, so that’s not a surprise.” Sirius brushed Remus’ grimy blond hair away from his face, smiling softly. “Lily will care for you and Alice and Frank will be by your side. You’ll have the warm interior of dark colors and cold stone, dusty old drapes and portraits of grim old wrinkly pale men to nurse you back to health. You’ll have more fun than you’ve ever had. I’m actually quite jealous.” Remus’ hair had grown in the two months they’d been apart, the bottom strands extended half-way down his neck. He tucked Remus’ hair behind his ears, as Remus often did for Sirius.

 

“And I’ll be with you as soon as I can, at the very moment I can, I promise, Remus, I promise,” Sirius’ body trembled, “I promise.”

 

At an awkward angle, Sirius managed to press his lips to Remus’ forehead. As he sat back up and started moving to leave, Remus moved. He shivered, still in deep sleep, and the top half of his torso leaned into Sirius. Seeking warmth. Sirius bit back a sob and failed, choking out a strangled wet sound. He began fervently transferring kisses to Remus, touching his pointer and middle finger to his lips and then to Remus, to every appendage on his body, every bandage, several times over.

 

“Sirius, are you ready to go?”

 

He touched Remus’ lips with a trembling hand, feeling the cold chapped softness. He soaked in the world he lived in when he was with Remus, whispered _I promise_ , and left the wagon.

 

He inhaled. The ancient Black blood that he suppressed daily surged forward—coldness and determination and ambition and apathy and darkness and lying and success.

 

Sirius exhaled and looked to Alice and Frank. 

 

“I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smol baby Frank here to give you some fluff! Also, Sirius doesn't know it's sign language, so he calls it hand signaled. 
> 
> There were probably a few mistakes in this but if I read this chapter one more time today my eyes will bleed out.
> 
> Since this was a chapter cut in half I'll tell you what you can look forward to in the next chap (that will be posted in 3 days hopefully): Regulus, Alice bonding, bitchy Walburga, more of how the full moon went, and Remus deliriously saying something funny but alluding to an invisible injury


	12. hands heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final chapter: the fluff returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH  
> my immune system is seriously kicking the fuck out of my sorry ass. but I have revived and finally finished this 
> 
> this is the end! there will be the bonus fluff chapter of snippets throughout their lives, but this is the end of i'll kiss you for as much time as we have
> 
> \--
> 
> (oh, some things I promised last chapter had to be cut out, but they'll be in the next one)
> 
> Enjoy!

“Prince Sirius is back! Open the gates! Open the gates!”

 

Sirius contorted his face into a mixture of weathered and victorious. He could hear the yelling spreading through the yard, _Prince Sirius is here_ passing from one guard to another, slowly winding its way to his mother. 

 

As soon as they made it through the gates, guards were upon them, running alongside Grimm, questioning Sirius to who the two foreigners were. Sirius refused to speak until he came to the castle front steps. Edgar and other staff stood in the courtyard, watching. Dismounting Grimm, Sirius spoke to one of his father’s favorite guards and gestured carelessly to Alice and Frank.

 

“This boy,” they had switched wagons so Alice and Frank pulled Minerva’s. Sirius walked to it, the guards trailing, “was attacked by the _beast,_ ” he spat out, turning his nose up. “I saved his life.”

 

He unhooked the wagon’s back wall, revealing Remus. Sirius stood steady at the hisses and undignified yelps from the crowd that had gathered. 

 

“These two,” Alice and Frank waved, “are his friends and they helped bandage me. They’ll accompany him to the healers.”

 

“The Queen—”

 

“ _I_ will speak with my mother,” Sirius snapped. “Alert the medics!”

 

He showed them the wolf next, earning claps on the back and cheers at the defeat. Sirius had no desire to carry the heavy wolf but he had no knowledge about conspiracies his mother probably planned. He must take every precaution necessary.

 

“I shall carry the werewolf.” Sirius sent a silent prayer to any god listening. He slid his arms underneath the wolf, fighting back a grimace at the fur matted in dried blood, and lifted it with a small grunt. His arms screamed in protest but he managed to not fall over.

 

If he had known how huge this wolf was, he never would have agreed to Remus hunting it. Nearly Sirius’ height if stretched, the monster weighed at least two of normal, human Remus. No sane person considered fighting animals like this. If Sirius hadn’t obsessively trained, he doubted he could have lifted the wolf at all.

 

Not sparing a glance at Alice and Frank, Sirius strode into the castle, forced to leave them behind while a stretcher came for Remus.

 

Inside the castle, Sirius’ mother stood on the staircase's third step, expression cold and blank, anger coiling around her. From his periphery vision, Sirius saw staff and servants struggle between coming forward for a better look at the wolf and slowly receding away from Walburga. The vibrating aura of rage swarming around her increased.

 

“Your Highness,” Sirius said.

 

Walburga stared at him for minutes. Regulus used to time how long she’d use this intimidation technique on Sirius, and they’d giggle together after if it had been six minutes or more. Having to hold the wolf made every second lengthen infinitely.

 

She tilted her head to the side, cracks forming in her lipstick as her mouth stretched up. “Congratulations.”

 

Sirius combatted her icy tone with an irritatingly warm one. “The beast will be in my quarters. Tonight, I will celebrate my conquest in my chambers and tomorrow the beast will hang on the wall in the ballroom,” Sirius paused for emphasis, “for the rest of my time as _King_.”

 

His mother’s nostrils flared. Spinning on her heel, she walked up the stairs at a pace brisk enough that it threatened to break Queen form.

 

Sirius’ smugness faltered—he’d have to walk up the staircases carrying the goddamn wolf. Maybe he could have servants help if he watched them with a keen eye. The four servants he called were equally disgusted and excited.

 

—

 

Sirius riffled through the towering parchment stack he kept hidden at the back of his sock drawer. During the last years he took lessons, he had saved all his notes even though he could recite the contents in his sleep. Maybe he was too paranoid, but he wanted to be ready for anything. Having meticulous small details might save him in a moment of need, find a way to contradict his mother. 

 

It had helped him many times before.

 

Sirius looked for notes on gods, a subject he cared little for. Desperate times made people do desperate things, however, and Sirius would do anything to gain luck’s favor. The problem was, the Blacks only cared for gods geared toward battle and destruction. He found one for success, which came closer to what he needed.

 

Sirius sighed in frustration and went to open his door. He barked at the guard conveniently lingering in Sirius’ hallway, “Bring me Miss Macdonald. She neglected to clean my room.”

 

The guard seemed unsure if Sirius was addressing him, checking behind him before saying, “Er, that’s not listed in my duties, Sir.”

 

Sirius’ eyebrows climbed to his hairline. Scowling, he said, “Are you refusing to obey your future King’s order?”

 

“N-no, Prince Sirius! Your Highness, I apologize, I’ll retrieve her right away!”

 

Sirius watched the guard scamper away. He must be new to the castle, he sounded young and nervous. Sirius pushed down the swell of regret for treating the guard as such and making a negative first impression. Waiting for Mary, he whispered under his breath the lies he would tell tomorrow. 

 

Mary knocked on the open door. “Your Highness has requested my services?”

 

“No, no,” Sirius said as she was mid-curtsey. “You don’t need to do that.”

 

Mary straightened up, her posture relaxing. She closed the door. “Oh, good, you’re you. Gossip is buzzing about how you’re back and being,” she grinned, “a big snooty ass.”

 

Sirius broke out of character, puffing out a chuckle. He thought Remus would get along with her well. 

 

“Wow. Is that…?”

 

Sirius dragged his teeth harshly over his lip and motioned her to go ahead.

 

He waited a few minutes. “Mary, you believe gods are real, right?”

 

Mary snorted softly, her back to him as she observed the wolf’s carcass. “I have faith, yes.”

 

“Do you,” Sirius hesitated. “Do you know—is there a god for healing?”

 

Mary twisted and studied him. Her face held no shock when she asked if Sirius needed to go to the infirmary for his wounds and he said he felt fine. Walking toward him, she told him to get out candles. She began leading him through a praying ritual once the candles were lit. Vastly different from the rituals for gods Black’s celebrated, Sirius felt a little silly. They sat on the ground and placed their left hand on the left side of their chest and their right hand on top of it. Closing their eyes, they envisioned the healing goddess and her sister, the goddess of death and rebirth. They pictured what they wished for, the wound or internal pain—or, Mary had winked at Sirius, _who_ they wished to be healed—and kindly requested the goddesses to watch over and aid them if they deemed the situation worthy.

 

“Now,” Mary mumbled, “we kiss both hands and raise them upwards, to the sky, or in this case the ceiling.”

 

Mary looked horrified when Sirius asked if they needed to make some sort of sacrifice. He decided not to tell her that his family had a history of secretly slaughtering servants for war gods. Not that he would have done anything horrid like that—he assumed the goddesses would want fruit or…flowers? 

 

“Like that circle of flowers you keep hidden under your bed?” 

 

Feeling his face grow hot, Sirius grumbled, “It’s a flower crown.”

 

Mary smirked.

 

“I have one more favor,” Sirius said.

—

 

Sirius emerged from the secret tunnel that led from nearby his room to the corridor close to the infirmary. Mary gladly accepted Sirius’ request to trash his room and then clean it slowly until he came back, keeping watch over the wolf. Fortunately, she was James’ other half—a servant with no title, whose duties changed each day. Any high-ranking person was allowed to order her to do whatever they required.

 

“Oh!” A nurse rushed forward, wrapping an arm around his staggering form.

 

Clutching his side, he moaned, “My ribs.”

 

She hustled him into the Royal sickroom, shouting for a doctor. He dramatized sitting down on the sickbed in pained moans, pleading for her to light the lanterns. Setting flame to all the candles, she told him she’d be right back. He waited four seconds before popping up, pressing his face into the window that overlooked the other sickrooms, searching for—

 

“John?”

 

Sirius jerked back. The nurse had returned, staring at him in the doorway until a doctor pushed her forward. The doctor cuffed the back of the nurse’s ear, scolding her for speaking to Sirius.

 

She hardly flinched at it. “What? He’s clearly looking for that boy, John. The one he saved. Probably checking to see if he died.”

 

“You are _never_ to address him and if you were ever granted to do so,” the doctor sneered, “you would address him as your Highness.”

 

The nurse flushed and curtsied low. “My apologies, your Highness.”

 

The doctor approached Sirius before Sirius had time to feel bad for the poor girl. He flinched, hissing, when the doctor touched his side, trying to be as dramatic as possible. He wondered the consequences of breaking character and asking the nurse what she knew about John. Too young and clearly a servant, her existence never crossed Sirius' path. Lily he probably could have gotten away with talking to, but this girl? Never, unless he wanted to arouse suspicion.

 

The doctor assisted him back to the bed and went through the un-bandaging process, checking the wounds. The nurse stood in the background and Sirius glared at her until she looked away when he took his shirt off. Only Remus deserved to see his body.

 

Worrying his bottom lip, Sirius zoned out while the doctor checked his back and then his legs, the deep “cut” on his thigh. Sirius spoke once in monotone, ordering the girl to leave the room when he had to take his pants off.

 

_Probably checking to see if he died._ The statement was too vague to make assumptions. If Remus did—no, he couldn’t have. No. No. James or someone would have found Sirius. Why the fuck couldn’t the girl have said more? All she contributed only stirred the fear inside him.

 

“Do you feel feverish, Prince Sirius? You are sweating profusely.” The doctor touched Sirius’ forehead, frowning. 

 

Swatting the hand away—being touched made his skin crawl—Sirius said he was going to lie down in his chambers. The doctor left to find servants who would help him walk back and Sirius contemplated darting out the room. He could find the nurse, ask her for more information. 

 

A Lily-like voice in his head reminded Sirius of how insolent the nurse acted in front of him, a Prince—she would easily gossip to others about Sirius asking her questions.

 

Standing up, Sirius went to the window, pressing his face into it, begging for one look, some sign to see Remus’ condition. The deserted sickrooms in sight brought no comfort. All the nurses on staff must be working with Remus and in the emergency room farther into the infirmary.

 

The young nurse hid around a corner, peering at him curiously, as a guard and a stocky servant escorted him away with their arms hooked under his armpits. The humiliation provided a decent distraction. When the arrived at the corridor leading to his room, he excused them to walk by himself.

 

“Shiiit.” Crumbs escaped Mary’s mouth, her eyes bulging.

 

Gaping, Sirius shut his door. On his bed laid a feast and Mary sat on the edge, stuffing a roll in her mouth.

 

She swallowed the mouthful roughly. “Er, a servant stopped by with food. I tried to resist but I haven’t eaten all day and you took forever,” she rambled, “and I didn’t know when you’d be back and I was going to have only a small bite and—”

 

Sirius waved her apologies away. “It’s, it’s fine. You can take more rolls if you’d like. Thank you for helping me.”

 

After Mary impressively shoved ten different foods into her uniform and left, Sirius dropped onto his bed. For the next hour, he cried while stuffing his face with a giant fruit bowl. Time ticked away and his blinking increased, the space between closing and then opening his eyes becoming longer. He stumbled to the alcove with the window facing the stables. Knowing Grimm was there provided a dim comfort, even if he couldn't see him. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

A sharp sting on Sirius’ cheek woke him up.

 

James’ apologetic face was inches from Sirius’. “You weren’t waking up and I have to leave in a second.”

 

Sirius grabbed James and pulled him down onto the alcove, hugging him fiercely. It felt like weeks had gone by since he last saw him. “What are you doing here?”

 

James squeezed Sirius and then sat up. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this or not, probably not, but you’re my best friend and we tell each other everything and I don’t know if this is a bad decision.”

 

“What? What is it?”

 

James wrung his hands. “Uh, okay. Okay. Remember when you talked to Remus at Minerva’s?”

 

“Yes.” Sirius had a terrible feeling about this, vaguely remembering Alice and Minerva looking panicked. “Why?”

 

“I overheard Alice talking to Lily about how, uh,” James spoke each word slowly, “that’s not a good sign.”

 

“James, spit it out!”

 

“When Remus thinks his body is getting really, _really_ awful, he talks. If he talks, that means,” James trailed off, “it’s an emergency.”

 

Sirius’ lips parted. The information sank in slowly. His mind attempted to find any other interpretation than—

 

“Sirius!” James lowered his voice. “Sirius. No, you can’t!”

 

James jumped up and gripped Sirius’ arm, preventing him from running off. When he continued to struggle, James twisted it behind Sirius’ back. Snarling, Sirius spat out, “Let—me—go!”

 

James applied more pressure, pushing Sirius’ arm up further. “Keep your voice down!”

 

“Let go of me!”

 

“Are you going to run to Remus?” After a silence, James said, “Exactly. There’s no way you can go see him without it being suspicious.”

 

Sirius’ chest heaved.“I—don’t— _care_.”

 

“Really? Because this,” fire lit up Sirius’ arm as James pressed it higher, “seems like you care a lot. And if you do, then you wouldn’t do anything to fuck Remus’ chances at getting better.” James relieved the pressure. “I haven’t seen Remus since he first came here, hours ago. The situation might have improved.”

 

Sirius’ body went slack and James let him go. Rubbing his arm, Sirius said, “Even one step in his direction is too, risky, isn’t it?”

 

Even though his question was rhetorical, Sirius desperately hoped James would say no and have a plan to sneak into the infirmary. 

 

“I have to go,” James’ big brown eyes said more than his words did, “people are coming to ‘wake’ you up soon.”

 

Sirius wondered if James had done this on purpose, told him right before people were coming for Sirius, making it impossible for him to sneak away without being noticed. He instantly felt guilty, because that wasn’t a James thing to do. “I love you,” he blurted.

 

James’ mouth drew up. “I love you too.”

 

—

 

The morning blurred in a haze. Servants entered and exited Sirius’ room constantly. They brought several expensive outfits for the night banquet, emptied and refilled his bathtub (horrified at how filthy a month in the forest had made him), carried armloads of perfumes, and attempted to groom him. The Black’s planner scurried along Sirius, informing him the details for the day. Sirius lasted two hours without complaints before he broke, which he thought deserved an award.

 

“LEAVE!” The scream ripped through Sirius’ mouth. The seven people currently in his room froze. “You are all dismissed. _Now._ ”

 

Alone, Sirius dropped to the ground, pressing his palms into his eyes. For a month, he had seen zero humans. Now, being back in the castle with constant contact, his emotions swelled greatly inside him, overwhelmed, seconds away from exploding. He suddenly understood how Remus struggled with socializing.

 

_Remus._

 

Sirius sprang up with an idea. How had he not thought of this? He sprinted to the bathtub and climbed into it, washing quickly. Without the servants, he didn’t have to use a washcloth to clean around his wounds—no reason to pretend they needed to be kept dry. He dried himself, dressed in casual clothing, and hurried to the infirmary.

 

—

 

A different doctor cared for him, one Sirius knew to be more relaxed. Taking a leap, Sirius laced his voice with cold indifference. “Did he die, then? The peasant boy.”

 

“Remember to keep these clean. Raise your pant leg now, I saw you limping.” Sirius had dressed into loose pants so he could roll it to mid-thigh and prevent partial nudity. While he rolled it, the doctor said, “That man? To my knowledge, he’s alive. They had me exam him on arrival and I approved.”

 

“Approved?”

 

“In terms of if his condition was worth using our resources. We don’t want to waste our medicine on lost causes, especially on people who are not our own.”

 

The doctor tutted sympathetically when Sirius gripped the bed’s sides, assuming it was in pain rather than outrage—this man had the control to say no, Remus’ life wasn’t worth trying to save. No one should have the power to decide that, especially not for his Remus.

 

“I’m surprised he lived that many days on the road with so many cuts,” the doctor went on, oblivious, “but the wounds themselves aren’t worrisome. They are not as deep as yours. His unconsciousness mostly is from the blood loss, I assume. Oh, my apologies, Prince Sirius. You asked a simple question and I have gone and rambled. I am sure this is no matter to you.”

 

“It pleases me to hear he will live.” Sirius tapped his pinky to his thumb twice. He half-wished James had heard him say that—he utterly perfected his mother’s ‘ _I am saying this but everyone knows I do not mean it in the slightest and I probably paid no attention to what you said’_ voice _._

 

The not paying attention part was true, for Sirius lived in his head more than in the present. All he cared about was the doctor saying Remus’ wounds were not as deep as Sirius’—an impossible, impossible truth from what Sirius had seen the day before.

 

Remus’ body must be healing itself.

 

—

 

Sirius growled, a deep rumbling whine in his throat, pacing before the closed ballroom doors. The whole day had been one activity after another, including a lecture from his mother on how he must act. His parents ordered darker skinned staff to not leave the servant quarters, they were not to be seen by any guests. The slim chance of James coming to Sirius with more news diminished completely. All day Sirius endured a back and forth battle about if Remus was healing or if he was—

 

The Royal announcer’s muffled voice shouted, “And now, the Noble and Most Ancient Kingdom of Black’s soon-to-be King, eldest son of his Royal Highness Orion and Queen Walburga Black, I present,” the announcer took a deep breath, “Prince Sirius!”

 

The post guards looked relieved to open the doors and be done with Sirius’s growling.

 

Planting on a polite smile, Sirius walked out onto the ballroom staircase. He waited at the top, accepting the applause. Across the ballroom, his mother nodded at him to go down the stairs. Walking down the left side, he took care with each step, knowing from experience that slipping was not a pleasant experience.

 

The next two hours passed slow and fast. Sirius moved around the room at a winding pace, stopping and being stopped by every cluster of people. Around fifteen Kingdoms stood present, all dressed extravagantly and eager to congratulate Sirius. Or pretended to look eager, depending on their land’s politics and values. Living with his mother, Sirius had grown excellent at the skill of knowing who lied through their teeth and who did not.

 

No extended cousins nor in-laws came up to Sirius. He had expected them to make a snide remark at the earliest chance, particularly Bellatrix. They had better come forward soon if they didn’t want to make an impression on the guests. Walburga would kill if rumors spread about weak links in the Black family.

 

With an internal sigh , Sirius politely excused himself from the Dark Lord—apparently the only way in which to greet him now. Tom Marvolo wasn’t a King, technically. His “Kingdom” was an abandoned expanse of land, due to its more than poor weather conditions and rough terrain. Only questionable groups of people settled there, looking for a place to hide. Around the time Sirius was born, Marvolo began gaining attention, naming himself the land’s leader and enforcing the random assortment of people into following him. Over the years, he rose his way through the ranks among darker Kingdoms. 

 

Sirius approached the last people he had yet to say hello to with a smile. They were a kind and friendly bunch. He loved this the best, chatting with people he didn’t have to calculate a response to. He asked about the puppy their son was raising and took small amusement in their surprise at his remembrance and cordial demeanor. People had low standards for Black Royalty and family.

 

Shaking the kind King’s hand again with a chuckle, he left and walked up the short staircase leading to a raised platform. His mother and father sat in two large chairs with high backs, dressed in as many items as possible that screamed _wealth_. Personally, Sirius liked the Black crest pin on his father’s chest and the stitched B-L-A-C-K letters underneath it, in case you somehow missed who he was.

 

“Sirius,” Orion said gruffly. 

 

“Father,” Sirius said curtly.

 

Orion’s attention moved on.

 

Sirius’ mother didn’t indulge Sirius in being addressed, piercing him instead with her dark blue gaze. He understood. All day she had been telling him _concise_ , his speech must be concise. 

 

Regulus stood by her chair, his gaze kept above Sirius’ head.

 

Sirius walked forward to the platform’s edge. Dozens of eyes looked at him, nothing he wasn’t used to, and he cleared his throat.

 

“Good even—”

 

The grand doors he had entered through opened and there was a loud swoosh sound from the many guests turning to look who dared arrive late and in the middle of Sirius’ speech. Sirius squinted straight ahead and he should have found something suspicious in his mother not making an immediate outrage. 

 

Orion’s favorite Knight stepped through holding a limp body in his arms.

 

—

 

Remus and Sirius gaped at each other. Okay, _Sirius_ gaped at Remus. Remus stared at Sirius in a detached friendly away.

 

After Sirius died seeing Remus in the Knight’s arms, looking dead to the world, Walburga stepped up next to him. She demanded the Knight to bring the man Sirius had saved up here, he could help Sirius relay their meeting.

 

Luckily the walk across the ballroom floor was a long one, giving Sirius time to marginally process _what the hell was happening._ He had looked to his mother but her face held no wicked gleam. She arched an eyebrow with a satisfied, victorious smile and Sirius barely kept himself from visibly showing his relief. His fears weren’t coming to life, she didn’t know Remus was a werewolf. She brought Remus in to steal Sirius’ spotlight by cutting him off in the middle of his speech—having Remus take part in the glory Sirius would get in telling his ‘werewolf duel’. 

 

Sirius facially acted upset to his mother. Inside, he freaked _the fuck_ out. Sirius easily put on the Black role to be cold and apathetic. He had had to do it his whole life. Having to be indifferent toward Remus?  Sirius became a lovesick puppy anytime Remus was the tiniest bit near him.

 

Which was why he gaped. Remus pulled off the detached friendly spectacularly. He sat in the chair designated for Sirius, bandaged up with a few gnarly cuts exposed. People had gasped earlier and Sirius bitterly thought they should have seen Remus yesterday—basically body pieces barely strung together. Remus still wasn’t a pretty sight but he clearly was going to live, coherent and recovering.

 

“Sirius,” Orion prompted warningly. 

 

Sirius snapped. “Well—”

 

“John,” Walburga interrupted loudly, sweetly, “why don’t you start?”

 

_Oh, thank gods._ Distantly, Sirius loved how his mother’s efforts to upset him worked in his favor. Remus’ introduction mostly went in one ear out the other. Sirius focused more on collecting his marbles while also being distracted by how beautiful Remus was. Remus talked with Alice’s accent, though softer and more understandable.

 

“—and when I lost all hope, there was a bright silvery flash and this gallant stranger in armor slashed the beast’s side, directing the werewolf’s attention toward him and away from me.”

 

Remus looked to Sirius and Sirius’ chest was still puffed out at being called _gallant._ Remus raised his eyebrow, both amused and communicating that it was Sirius’ turn to speak.

 

“And…I s-slashed him,” Sirius stumbled, his mind blanking, “down the side. I had seen R-John and knew I had to save him,” Remus gave the barest of nods and Sirius found his footing, “even if it meant putting my life at risk. Instead of taking advantage of the wolf’s back to me and using the element of surprise, I cut his side to lure him to me.”

 

Sirius wondered if his ineloquent start made his mother proud that her plan worked or irritated that he was representing the Blacks with formal, choppy language. He adjusted his speech to be more intelligent, with stiff words several syllables long. Eventually, he looked to the audience, courage drawn from Remus’ presence, and he threw himself into the story, pretending he was at the meadow with Remus. He made long pauses that had everyone leaning forward in anticipation and he acted out his swordsmanship when Remus spoke, painting Sirius to be this honorable lifesaver.

 

Sirius felt guilt he would deal with later for crediting himself to Remus’ triumph. A roaring applause came at the end and Sirius bowed twice. He resisted the urge to look back to Remus and share a winning smile. 

 

Then several things happened at once. Someone brought a chair out to the floor and the Knight carried Remus, again, off the platform and to it. Sirius somehow ended up in the crowd’s middle, surrounded by people congratulating him again and having him reenact specific parts. A crowd formed a wall around Remus, too, and no matter where Sirius angled himself, he couldn’t get a glimpse.

 

Sirius spent an hour, at least, socializing and filling his Princely duty to each person attending. He simmered each second, thinking about the Knight carrying _his_ Remus. His Remus! In a Knight’s arms! Sirius nearly challenged him to a duel. He contented himself with the knowledge that he could fire the Knight when he becomes King.

 

“Greetings, cousin.”

 

Sirius ground his teeth, gripping his wine glass. Several unflattering responses crossed his mind. “Malfoy,” Sirius said, smiling. He had to play nice. “How do you find yourself this fine evening?”

 

The stupid blond asshole, Lucius Malfoy, smirked. He flicked his long hair over his shoulder. “Oh, I am fabulous. I was so sad to see you miss that trip months ago. Reg and I had a fabulous time.”

 

_Aw, is that the only word you know?_ “Oh, _fabulous._ I missed you dearly. It is _fabulous_ you had a _fabulous_ time.” 

 

What? Sirius needed some fun, or he’d truly go insane.

 

Lucius tsked. “A child still, I see.”

 

“Child, you say?” A tall woman with dark black hair and sharp features appeared next to Lucius. Her smile was razor sharp. “You must be talking about—oh, Sirius, how nice to see you.” Bellatrix raised her voice, “Cissy! Come here.”

 

While Bellatrix was undeniably a Black offspring in appearance, her sister Narcissa was not. Though beautiful, Narcissa had blonde hair and could easily be mistaken as Lucius’ sister rather than his wife. She walked gracefully to Lucius and he wrapped an arm around her waist. With Narcissa there, Bellatrix screamed for Regulus next. 

 

Sirius felt more annoyed than intimidated when Regulus joined them. They were a wolf pack circling their prey.

 

Bellatrix cooed, “The family’s all here.” 

 

“Not all here,” Sirius stared his brother down, “dear Andy’s missing.”

 

Regulus looked away.

 

Bellatrix hissed, “ _Do not speak her name._ ”

 

“Bella.” Narcissa admonished her.

 

“Yes, Bella,” Sirius mocked, “we do no wish to disturb others.”

 

Watching Bellatrix’s face darkened into a violent red, Sirius thought they made it too easy to rile them up.

 

“Have I said how surprised I am that the peasant boy is so torn up,” Malfoy intercepted. “I haven’t, have I?”

 

“Yes,” Narcissa quickly said. She sniffed. “He is terribly injured. He can barely be considered saved.”

 

“Not such a great warrior, you are, huh?” Bellatrix sneered, her anger redirected.

 

Sirius tightened his jaw.

 

“Oh, hit a nerve, did we? Wee baby Sirius’ sensitive feelings.”

 

“How can we trust a King who cannot even protect one person?”

 

“Pitiful excuse of a Prince.”

 

Regulus, who had stood silent, cleared his throat. “We might want to lower our voices.”

 

“Thank you for the support brother,” Sirius deadpanned.

 

“Please, Sirius,” Bellatrix said. “When was the last time he was on your side?”

 

An intense staredown went between Sirius and Bellatrix until Narcissa huffed and said this bored her. Lucius agreed and Bellatrix reluctantly departed with them, saying she wanted to see Marvolo. Regulus shifted on his feet. His suit was dark green with embroidered black swirl patterns. Sirius’ was the opposite, classier black with green. The Blacks were insistent on their Royal colors. 

 

Sirius thought the green brought out the peakiness in Regulus’ face. 

 

“Congratulations,” Regulus muttered so low Sirius hardly heard him.

 

“Two.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Two,” Sirius repeated. “That’s two words you’ve spoken to me. You said my name before I hit you and now your congratulations.”

 

Regulus watched other people. A minute passed. “You never speak to me either.”

 

“No use in talking to a wall.”

 

A muscle in Regulus’ jaw ticked. “I was trying to help you, you know.”

 

“Okay,” Sirius laughed. “You keep telling yourself that, Reg.”

 

Regulus’ eyes finally met his. “You would have got in trouble! I was doing what was right.”

 

“Trouble? Like the one I got after you tattled? Like all the times I took punishments for you?”

 

For a second Sirius almost thought Regulus looked remorseful. “I never asked you to.”

 

“Maybe. But at a point you let it happen.” Regulus said nothing. “And you joined their ranks. Bella must make fabulous company.”

 

Regulus remained silent but he grabbed Sirius’ arm when Sirius stepped away.

 

“Congratulations,” he repeated.

 

Sirius scoffed and peeled Regulus’ fingers off.

 

—

 

Lingering near Remus, Sirius hoped someone would invite him over. The crowd around Remus had waned and Sirius burned with need. Too many hours he had spent away, fretting about how people treated Remus and how he must be horrifically overwhelmed. What if he felt ill? What if Sirius’ cousins harassed him? What if someone tried to court him?

 

“Sirius, my boy,” an elderly Uncle said, “come here, I was just chatting with the fellow you saved, Jacob, was it?”

 

“John,” Remus corrected benignly.

 

Biting his tongue to stop from smiling, Sirius strode over at a faked leisurely pace “Uncle, I heard someone saying your name across the room.”

 

His uncle scowled. “Was it Druella?” He hobbled away, muttering, “Oh, that old bat better not be smart-mouthing me off to people again!”

 

Sirius casually looked around to make sure no one was in the vicinity. With the coast clear, Sirius dropped into the chair beside Remus, keeping his body posture straight and face neutral. He spent minutes just drinking his love in. His blond hair stuck up in adorable ruffles.

 

“You look sick.”

 

“Gee, what a greeting. Nice to see you, too.”

 

Sirius’ heart sang. He checked to make sure no one was nearby, again, and leaned in, whispering, “Gods, Remus, it’s so fucking good to see you.”

 

“Same sentiments. Do you know who I’ve talked to?”

 

Sirius’ heart sank, picturing Bellatrix. “Who?”

 

“Dumbfucks! Dumbfuck here, dumbfuck there, dumbfuck everywhere.”

 

Sinking into his chair, Sirius laugh-swore. “Remus you can’t do that! I have to be a snobby Prince repulsed by peasants.”

 

“Sorry.” Remus cheekily flashed his overbite and then composed his face. “I met lovely people, but there’s been plenty unsavory folks. How are you?”

 

“How am I? How are _you_?”

 

“I saw some people circling you like sharks. A harsh looking woman with similar features to you, two blond siblings, and your brother, I presume?”

 

“What are sharks?”

 

“I’ll tell you later. Tell me about you and those people.”

 

“ _Remus._ How are you?”

 

Remus sighed. “Fine. I’m alright. My stupid body finally kicked into action and my wounds are healing. I’m too weak and sore to do much but sit, though. I think I reached my social capacity limit ages ago.”

 

Two teenagers, a Princess and a Lord’s son, walked past them. Sirius waited cautiously before speaking. “You know,” he said from the corner of his mouth, “it would be dreadful if you tried to stand and fainted. Someone might have to carry you away.”

 

“Oh, yes,” Remus said gravely, “dreadful it would be. I’d need a dashing Prince to save me.”

 

“I may happen to know someone who’d fit that description. He’s quite the charmer, too, I’ve heard.”

 

Remus puffed out the tiniest breath of laughter that had the potential to power Sirius for a million years.

 

“Well, here I go.”

 

Sirius had to admit, it was extremely convincing. Remus pushed himself up and took a step forward, swayed dangerously and then crumpled to the ground. Sirius threw himself forward to catch him just in time. Conversations around them stopped and a few people cried out.

 

“Everything is under control. He is breathing well, I suspect he fainted.” Sirius scooped Remus up and threw him over his shoulder, wrapping an arm around Remus’ legs to keep him in place. “I will bring him to the nurses and return swiftly.”

 

“A hero again, it appears,” drawled a voice behind Sirius.

 

Sirius tightened his grasp on Remus and turned to face his brother. Smiling, he said pleasantly, “Well, someone has to be.”

 

He raised his eyebrows at Regulus and walked right past him, crossing the ballroom floor. The guards opened the grand doors for him and Sirius waved away their offers to take Remus. Strolling from one corridor to another, Sirius waited until no one was in sight before he pushed a statue aside, revealing a hidden door to a secret tunnel. He nicked a hanging lantern before entering the passageway.

 

Sirius began the tunnel trek downward that would lead to a long upwards staircase before coming to an exit a floor away from the infirmary.

 

“Ooh,” Remus cooed, his voice muffled from hanging upside down on Sirius’ back. “Sneaky.”

 

Sirius laughed softly. Remus’ voice had a syrupy quality to it.

 

“How are you feeling now?”

 

“A little…woozy.”

 

“Yeah,” how incredibly surreal—to be laughing with Remus in his arms, “I thought so.”

 

“You can set me down, you know. No need to pretend anymore.”

 

“Nope. Remember, I get to pamper you forever? That means no walking ever. In fact,” Remus squealed as Sirius slipped Remus off his shoulder and scooped him back up and into his arms, bridal style, in one swift movement, “— _here can you hold the lantern on your stomach? thanks_ —you are to be treated like a princess.”

 

“I’m not a princess,” Remus slurred, “I’m a werewolf.”

 

Remus’ face had a light sheen of sweat and his head bounced with every step Sirius made. Even with bandages crossing his face, Remus stole Sirius’ breath, the combination of his crinkled eyes looking at Sirius like he was incredibly silly and that stupid crooked smile of his.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m quite aware.” He asked concernedly, “Did I hit your head on a wall?”

 

Remus circled his arms around Sirius’ neck, wiggling himself around until he could rest his head on Sirius’ collarbone and shoulder, nearly knocking the lantern off his lap. Sirius could feel the hotness of Remus’ breath through his suit’s collar. “I don’t think so. I took this drink that made me feel good but she said after awhile it will make me sleepy.” He punctuated his statement with a yawn, ending with an adorable little _eh_ noise.

 

“Who’s she?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Who gave you the drink?”

 

“Oh, she’s a nice woman.”

 

Sirius’ heart leapt in his throat. “Remus. _Who_ gave it to you.”

 

Remus rubbed his face into Sirius’ neck with a rumbling sound. “The healer. Her name’s…starts with a P, I can’t recall,” Sirius let out a whoosh of air, cold relief seeping through him, “she was wrong, though, I’m not tired at all.”

 

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yup,” Remus yawned—the little _eh_ sound!—and proceeded to rub his head against the suit collar covering Sirius’ neck.

 

“Love,” Sirius huffed, “what are you doing?”

 

“The—coat—is—so—soft—and I—missed you—so— _much._ ”

 

Sirius paused his walking. He whispered, “I missed you, too.”

 

Remus finished his nuzzling, too loopy to understand they were having a moment. “And you smell nice. Very Sirius-y. Now I smell like you and everyone will know I’m yours.”

 

Warmth settled in Sirius’ belly _._ Calmly, he asked Remus to hold the lantern tightly. Once he did, Sirius carefully lowered Remus’ legs down. He took the lantern out of his hands and set it on the floor and then crowded him against the cool wall, fast, and pressing him flush against it, but still mindful and gentle.

 

“I’m yours, too,” he whispered. 

 

“Well of course you are, that’s a stupid thing to say. My Sirius, my idiot.”

 

Pushing his body closer, adding a small bit of pressure, Sirius lined them up, making sure their bodies were touching as much as they possibly could. He laced his fingers through Remus’ and pinned them above his head. Leaning his forehead on top of Remus’ head, into his hair—was it insane that he found the scent of Remus’ sweat intoxicating?—Sirius shivered. Even if Remus was unaffected by medicine and in a lucid state, Sirius couldn’t kiss him. Touching him like this overwhelmed him, blazed out every thought and functional ability. After being apart for so long and scared about Remus’ life, Sirius _needed_ to be touching Remus, to know he was real and safe and alive and here.

 

Gulping, Sirius whispered hoarsely, “You’re mine?”

 

“Yours.” Remus chanted it like it was an amusing song, “Yours, yours, yours.”

 

Gods, he was so fucking adorable. Sirius couldn’t wait until Remus woke up clearheaded and remembered this tomorrow. He missed that classic head duck accompanied with rosy cheeks. Sirius would probably be embarrassed too, never had he done something like boldly pressing Remus into a wall. 

 

“I want to smell like you,” Remus suddenly whined, wiggling until he managed to shift his leg and slide it between Sirius’, “I want to be yours, want everyone to know I’m yours.”

 

“ _Fuck_ , Remus you can’t say things—Remus, Remus stop.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Is this,” Sirius asked in a strained voice, “is this, uh, wolf thing?”

 

Remus stopped squirming, which saved Sirius the pain of figuring out to stop Remus’ grinding without pushing him harder into the wall and hurting his wounds. 

 

“When you’re in my territory,” Remus explained impatiently, “you need to smell like me so everyone knows your mine. I’m in your territory, I need to smell like you,” Remus tried to pull his hands down as he began to move again, “everyone I see should know I’m yours.”

 

“O-okay, okay, no no, don’t start again. I think you’re done,” Sirius lied, “I can smell you, you smell completely like me and we—we’re good.”

 

Remus stopped moving again and grumbled out _fine_ with such childish bitterness that Sirius chuckled, affection surging inside him.

 

Remus demanded, “Why are you laughing?”

 

“I simply adore you.”

 

“Oh,” Remus said, as if such a thing never occurred to him.

 

“Alright, up we go.” Sirius separated their hands and leaned down to grab the lantern, handing it to Remus. The staircase laid in front of them and he hesitated, thinking about the easiest way to carry Remus. “Alright,” he said, “I’m turning around, you’re going to have to stand on your own for a moment, can you do that, love?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good. Now,” Sirius turned and bent his knees, “I need you to lift a leg and put it around my waist. Good.” Sirius helped to heft the leg higher. With his other hand, Sirius grabbed the back of Remus’ other thigh and lifted it up. 

 

Sirius held the underside of Remus’ thighs and hoisted him up higher as he stood up. Remus ooh-ed, bouncing slightly, and he tightened his legs around Sirius’ waist, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck. The lantern he held loosely clunked against Sirius’ chest. 

 

“All safe?”

 

Remus hummed.

 

“Go to sleep now, love.”

 

“I’m,” Remus yawned, laying his cheek on Sirius’ shoulder, “not tired.”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes as he began walking up the stairs. By the sixth step, Sirius smiled at a soft snore.

 

—

 

“Oh, I’ve been worrying about him. How was he?”

 

The word _wonderful_ rested on the tip of Sirius’ tongue. He went for a more appropriate answer to the doctor. “People viewed him as agreeable. I do not believe he suffered too much pain but he fainted. He woke up while I carried him and had a few incoherent, mild mood swings.”

 

“Poor babe,” the doctor tutted. “That’s an unfortunate side-effect of the drink. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble, your Highness.”

 

“Not at all,” Sirius said, thinking if only she knew how little trouble it was, “it is my duty as a Prince and fellow human to do such.”

 

The doctor regarded him for a moment. Sirius hesitated and turned around to leave, feeling multiple eyes boring into his back—Lily, Alice, and Frank.

 

—

 

Sirius floated through the evening’s end, his time in the tunnel with Remus replaying in a loop behind his eyes. He had yet to recover from Remus squirming against him. Delicious pride licked at his heart for Remus wanting to be his, wanted to smell like Sirius so everyone knew. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this. His blood burned with the memory of Remus pressed against him, his hot breath on Sirius’ neck as he said _yours_.

 

And how he sang _yours_ , how endearingly ridiculous he had been. How the sweet feel of Remus clinging onto his back planted seeds within him that quickly grew into a meadow.

 

And then the relief—he was going to be okay.

 

Sirius maintained his neutral expression for an hour until he pretended to be tipsy from wine, smiling and laughing.

 

—

 

There were a few exits in the ballroom. A private, off limits one led to a circular room with walls covered in portraits—the Black ancestry. Sirius snuck into it for a quiet break. He’d give the goodbye speech shortly.

 

His feet carried him to the only painting with more than one person in it. Brush strokes created Orion and Walburga Black, their two young sons in front of them. There was barely any space between Sirius and Regulus, their sides a breath away from touching. 

 

The entrance door clicked open, filling with a too familiar perfume.

 

A shadow fell over the family portrait. Sirius didn’t acknowledge his mother as she stood beside him and neither did she acknowledge him. The dichotomy between the music-filled ballroom with warm voices and the stony-faced portrait room, silent and cool in temperature, was jarring. It felt almost dream-like to be in one room and next to the closed door of the other.

 

Sirius expected his mother came to drag him back to the party. She made no indication to do so, no snide remark nor sharp nails digging into his upper arm. Merely standing to his side, she looked at the same painting.

 

“Your father refused to mount this painting in here. Improper, he said, the Black ancestry room was for portraits with only one individual in the frame. However, he is not the only Black with stubbornness, and here the portrait hangs. Exactly as I desired.” 

 

Walburga’s profile hid her expression. 

 

“You were five years, Regulus four.”

 

Someone tried to open the door. Sirius glanced over, it hadn’t been locked when he came in. Perhaps the person bumped roughly into it on accident.

 

“What a sweet child, you were. Eager to please. You made your grandfather laugh, a sight I had never seen. Your cousins envied you, especially Cissy. Your competitor for the angelic child.”

 

Sirius looked back to his mother, his bewilderment increasing. How could that be true? His cousins hated him because the adults hated him, the whole family did—because he never fit into their politics. Sirius never remembered _anyone_ liking him. 

 

“Oh yes, they all despised you. Even if you were not next-in-line to the throne by blood, your grandparents, aunts and uncles, your father and I…it was apparent we would have chosen you anyway At that time.”

 

She kept staring at the painting, head forward.

 

“Yes, what a sweet child you were.”

 

Sirius waited for her to speak. One minute. Three minutes. At six, he stepped back, footsteps muffled by carpet, and walked to the ballroom’s door. Unlocking the door, his hand hesitated on the doorknob, twisting it but not pulling it open. He looked over his shoulder.

 

His mother’s hand lifted, the back of her fingers brushing against five-year-old Sirius’ cheek.

 

Sirius opened the door and stepped into the brightly lit room.

 

—

 

James snuck Sirius down to a rare single servant’s room, where Remus would be kept until he fully recovered, no longer needing to be under constant medical watch. Sirius made no fuss about using the servant’s narrow stairs. The whole way James kept laughing and whooping, jabbering away about their success. He hugged Sirius at least six times.

 

Alice and Frank left the room to give Remus and Sirius a little privacy.

 

“We did it?” Remus asked. They sat on the bed together, their legs crisscrossed and knees touching. Remus had napped the loopy medicine effects off, now bright-eyed and calm.

 

Sirius found his voice, though it was croaky. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, we did.”

 

“We did it,” Remus repeated in wonder.

 

“We did it.”

 

Remus lifted his hand, everything slow and light and soft, wrapped it around Sirius’ neck. His fingers toyed with the short hairs at the nape of Sirius’ neck, underneath his longer strands, and then moved higher, scratching Sirius skull. Remus indulged Sirius with this for minutes before bringing their heads together.

 

Sirius’ heart stuttered as Remus softly brushed his lips over Sirius’ and then back down again, pressing more firmly. Sirius tilted his head to the side, placing one hand on Remus’ hip and cupping Remus' cheek with the other. Capturing Remus’ bottom lip, he nudged Remus into responding. 

 

Kissing slowly helped them to find a better rhythm than the last two times they kissed. Tenderness fragile enough to break or last an eternity. Sirius traced Remus’ teeth with his tongue, quickly learning he loved feeling the rounded sharp points of Remus’ canines. It suddenly hit him full force how he had the pleasure of doing this—learning new things he loved with Remus. 

 

The realization burst through him more than it should have and he smiled too foolishly, making it difficult to keep kissing.

 

Remus pushed Sirius tongue out and dragged Sirius’ bottom lip in, biting it harshly before releasing it.

 

“What are you doing, you dumbfuck,” Remus murmured.

 

Sirius felt too overwhelmed to speak. Remus pulled back and his eyes softened, the green dark in the dimly lit room. Leaning in, he kissed the corner of Sirius’ mouth for eight seconds.

 

He nudged Sirius’ nose with his own and whispered, “however much time.”

 

Sirius hid his face in Remus’ neck, starting to cry because this time it wasn’t a death sentence, a looming ending. It was a promise, one they could keep, their hands heavy with all the time they held before them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the long fluff chapter as promised! but it will be put in a separate work so click to the part 2 of this series : )

I have broken down the long chapter into small snippets and compiled some of it into a new work which you can read if you click on part 2 of this series.

 

I want to say thank you to everyone who followed along and everyone who supported me in the comments! There is a lot I feel I could've done better but for the most part, I love this story and I hope you enjoyed the ride. 


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